Bound
by MissXeli
Summary: The adventure through the Labyrinth left Jareth a changed man... err, owl... n.~ What's a Goblin King without his powers? *COMPLETE!*
1. Curse

Author's Notes: Allo everyone! *wavles* Well, finally got around to signing up for an account here, just like I finally got around to writing a Laby fic. ^_^ I haven't really seen this idea explored in much detail before, so I thought I'd give it a shot, just to be different. n.- Read, review, and go easy on me, it's my first time, ne? Oh, anything in single ( ' ) quotation marks is just the character's thoughts. Asterisks ( * ) indicate memories/flashback-type stuff.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. There. Happy? *snif*  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
I've put my trust in you  
  
Pushed as far as I can go  
  
And for all this  
  
There's only one thing you should know  
  
I tried so hard  
  
And got so far  
  
But in the end  
  
It doesn't even matter  
  
I had to fall  
  
And lose it all  
  
But in the end  
  
It doesn't even matter  
  
~Linkin Park, 'In the End'  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
  
  
Jareth sat in a tree branch outside Sarah's window, in owl form, watching as the girl spoke to her friend through her mirror.  
  
"I need you, Hoggle," she was telling the surprised dwarf.  
  
"Yuh... you do?" He asked her, astonished.  
  
Outside, Jareth seethed. Even that spineless Hoghead had a better standing with Sarah than he did. The dwarf hadn't even done half as much as he had.  
  
"I don't know why, but..." Sarah was saying, "every now and again in my life, for no reason at all, I need you. All of you."  
  
"Weeeelll... why didn't ya say so!" And suddenly the girl's room was filled with those whom she had met on her journey. His subjects. All laughing and having a good time, while Sarah enthusiastically hugged her friends. Even those who had tried to stop her were there. She had meant it when she had said 'all of you'.  
  
Evidently, 'all of you' did not include him.  
  
Jareth turned and took flight, unwilling to stomach any more of watching his 'faithful' subjects join the girl in celebrating her victory. His defeat at her hands. Of all the ungrateful, disloyal swine.  
  
And she'd welcomed them in so easily. She had invited them to take part in the fun and games, even overlooked the fact that half of them had been her enemies. In spite of that, she had forgiven them. And why shouldn't she? They had all been following his orders, so it was only necessary to hate him, after all.  
  
Jareth knew he was bitter. And why shouldn't he be? He had done everything for her.  
  
He alighted on a fence post and scanned the field in front of him for a quick snack. Almost instantly, his sharp owl hearing caught the sounds of movement in the wet grass, and he flew down on silent wings to snatch the hapless vole with deathly sharp talons. The animal gave a squeal of alarm as it was pulled from hiding, another decrease to the local farmers' rodent control problem. Jareth ate quickly, then took flight again. It was safest not to linger. He needed a place to hide until dawn, lest he himself fall victim to other predators of the night. Great Horned owls tended to hunt now, and were well known to prey upon the unwary barn owl caught out too late at night.  
  
He took to the skies, avoiding street lamps in order to reduce his chances of being seen. Technology was his enemy, in more ways than one. It had been so simple in days past, before machinery and advanced science had taken over. Places of fantasy such as his kingdom relied on the beliefs of people living in the mortal realm. It was their powers of imagination which fueled the magic which his realm and so many others depended on to continue their existence. Everyone had believed back then, and his kingdom had flourished. Babies were laughably easy to come by; almost everyone was so ridiculously superstitious that they would wish away everything from twins to unwanted pregnancies to premature children (the last was better for the child, really, since mortals in that time lacked the knowledge and skills to ensure it's survival). Children were told bedtime stories about a Goblin King and monsters and a labyrinth where one could get lost and wander forever. Adults would cross themselves at the sight of a barn owl before hurrying home to their loved ones. Truly it had been the Golden Age of the Underground, Jareth mused as he crawled into a likely-looking hollow in the branches of a tree. He relaxed slightly when it didn't appear to be inhabited, but steeled himself for a long vigil nonetheless. It wouldn't do to have lived this long, only to be caught off guard by some mundane predator or another. He settled down comfortably for a long night and went back to his brooding.  
  
There had been the one notable instance where a young boy had bested his Labyrinth; a quick, resourceful lad who had bribed one of his goblins into leading him to the castle, and had thus won back his little sister (charming girl of six or so, if memory served). The king himself had been livid over the apparent corruptibility of his subjects, and the goblin responsible had been tossed straight into His Highness' brand new Bog of Eternal Stench, created especially for turncoats like it's first unfortunate (and very smelly) victim.  
  
The boy had later written a book about his defeat of the infamous Goblin King, with his beloved little sister as the heroine. Jareth had been somewhat relieved when the publishers had insisted upon a few changes which had almost prevented the book from being printed at all. With the way they had re-worded it, no one would ever be able to wish a child away. It was for dramatic purposes, they had told the irate young man. It had been rather disappointing when the boy thought it over, and realized that it was probably better if no one wished anyone away by accident. A shame, that. Still, whether or not the lines in the book had any power didn't concern him. The Goblin King would not have it known to the world how he had been so embarrassingly defeated (not that it didn't happen once in a while, but no one had ever written it down for others to read before; besides, it happened so rarely that he usually chose to let it be). Soon afterwards, all the copies of the first printing were destroyed by a fire before they had even left the warehouse, and the original manuscripts went missing, never to be seen again. There was nothing the publishers could do, and the boy was out of money for a second attempt.  
  
What a pity.  
  
Really though, it turned out that Jareth needn't have bothered and, in fact, may have sealed his own fate by interfering. No sooner had he halted the story from being spread to the public did the sudden rush of new developments come roaring in. Looking back, it started out rather gradually, although it had certainly seemed fast in that age. Unfortunately for Jareth, it was only the beginning, and it got steadily worse from there. New developments flooded the nations he had previously been known throughout. Adults became more concerned with newfound oppourtunities for wealth. Children, although still as imaginative as ever, began to prefer cowboys and indians to a maze full of goblins. They would glue themselves to their television screens for hours, and didn't bother with fantasy realms of fairy tales anymore. And Jareth's kingdom began to die.  
  
That, too, was gradual, even after there was no one left who believed. The magic took time to leech out of the land, and Jareth had plenty of time to ponder his folly. Embarrassment or not, he should have left well enough alone. At least then, there would still be something, some evidence to show that he had existed in the minds of mortals, something for someone, anyone, to pick up and read, although reading was no longer as widespread or beloved a pastime as it once had been. Now there was nothing. And Jareth cursed his mistake as he grew weaker by the day and his realm slowly fell into ruin.  
  
Really, if it hadn't been for Sarah, the Underground would probably have been gone by now.  
  
Jareth winced at the thought, for that particular wound was still fresh. Oh, how he had revered her from afar. He still remembered that fateful day when a young girl picked up an old, dusty, forgotten book from the back shelf of an old used bookstore. He wasn't entirely sure how he had managed to overlook it, yet there it lay, unread by anyone. The spine was still new, the pages still crisp, although yellowed on the edges from age, the cover appearing new still, despite being more ancient than any of the other books in th store. He remembered how she had taken it home and read it for the first time, her fertile young imagination grasping ahold of the story and falling in love with it almost instantly. Sarah was a dreamer of an ilk Jareth hadn't seen for a long, long time; her love for fantasy and reading stood out like an orchid thriving in a wasteland of unoriginality. The Underground began to revive almost immediately as the girl latched onto the story and held it close to her heart, and it's king along with it. Her fire and passion for all he held dear drew him to her like a thirsty man to water, after so many endless years of drought.  
  
Jareth felt an almost overwhelming frustration creep over him. He had placed such high hopes in her, had even come to her one night as soon as he had recovered enough of his powers, and given her magic as she slept. In the hopes that she would make his kingdom flourish once more. It had already improved considerably, and although it was still far from it's former glory, it was no longer the uninhabitable ruin it had been. Perhaps one day, her desire to become an actress would lead her to turn the story into a production, so others might remember it as well. He had been so certain that she would be their salvation. And he had decided that he would grant her any wish she wanted.  
  
'"But what no one knew was that the King of the Goblins had fallen in love with the girl, and he had given her certain powers."' How he wished he could take it all back.  
  
Ungrateful whelp.  
  
Oh, she'd known about his gift to her. She must have. She, herself, had been the one to utter those words aloud when she had tried to get her brother to be quiet. He'd told her himself, had planted the knowledge in her fondest daydreams. And she had said the words, thinking she was merely acting out a much-loved fantasy. Was it his fault she hadn't taken them seriously?  
  
She had certainly decided that it was. She had looked so surprised when he'd taken her brother and confronted her in her parents' bedroom. And she had begged and cried, which certainly hadn't been what his expectations had been for his Sarah, although her stubbornness was there, in the form of childish desperation. Oh, how it had irritated him so, to see the pleading and distrust in her eyes. Although given the circumstances, he supposed he didn't really blame her. After all, she had been stunned, to be sure, and she had certainly regained her spunk when he had seen her next.  
  
*"And you, Sarah... how are you enjoying my Labyrinth?"*  
  
*"...It's a piece of cake!"*  
  
*"Really? Then how about upping the stakes, hmm?"*  
  
*"That's not FAIR!"*  
  
*"You say that so often. I wonder what your basis for comparison is."*  
  
Bitter, even then. The girl had entirely too much power over him. It had only been their second meeting, and he had already felt resentment towards her. He'd hated it when she'd said those infuriating words. 'It's a piece of cake.' That and 'It's not fair.' Like she had the right to speak of being fair. 'Fair' would have been for her to have wished for something else, wished for anything but for him to take her brother.  
  
'You forced us to be enemies, Sarah, and blamed me for it.'  
  
Had it really only been 13 hours ago? It felt like years.  
  
A sharp noise startled him out of his thoughts, and he froze, listening intently for the cause of the disturbance. A few moments of silence revealed nothing, and he would have given a bitter laugh, if he could in this form. Him, the mighty Goblin King, cowering in the dead of night over a noise in the forest. Had he still been in possession of his magic, he certainly wouldn't be holed up in the freezing cold, nearly giving himself heart failure over a few snapping twigs. Oh, how the mighty have fallen...  
  
'Look at me now, Sarah. See what I've been reduced to?' Heartless child. He'd begged her, actually _begged_ her to not say those final words which he knew would ruin him. And she had said them. He had no power over her. He never really had.  
  
And now he had no power over anything. He was trapped in her world, in so vulnerable a form, with no kingdom to go home to. It would only be a matter of time before he went mad, in this new existence which he didn't belong in.  
  
Selfish Sarah. Selfish, thoughtless girl.  
  
Only a matter of time.  
  
  
  
*~*~*~*~*~*  
  
  
  
Whew! Kudos for reading that lovely chunk of angst all the way through. That wasn't so bad, was it? Well, if it was, for heaven's sakes, tell me! Flames will be used for roasting 'mallows and heating my perma-chilled room. ^_~ 


	2. Accident

Lookie, chapter two! Woot. Thanks for all the great reviews, I honestly had no idea whether people would like this idea or not. n.n And I can't believe I forgot to credit Cormak3032 for being my editor/general sounding board! *gasp!* n.n Thanks hon! *DB lollipops to Corrie*  
  
Disclaimer-type thingie: Sheesh, if I owned any of this stuff, I'd be a lot richer than I am right now and I wouldn't have to settle for writing fanfics. ^_~  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Jareth awoke in a cold sweat from some very disturbing dreams , spurred awake by a frantic sense of urgency. He had to get to Sarah! He shook a few stray twigs from his wings as he dove out of his hiding place, not even bothering to make sure that it was safe. Predators be damned, he had to go to her, now! He barely missed colliding with some branches more than once in his singleminded determination to reach his goal, his mind racing. Had something happened to her?  
  
He alighted on his favourite branch outside her bedroom window, panting hard. He could see her lying in bed, facing the wall opposite him. She rolled over, mumbling something in her sleep.  
  
She was perfectly fine.  
  
Jareth puffed out his feathers and shook himself, genuinely confused. She was fine. Nothing was wrong. There was absolutely no reason for his inexplicable need to come to her. In fact, the feeling had subsided as if it had never existed at all.  
  
He studied her sleeping form as he puzzled over this latest development. True, he had wanted to check up on her during the past week, something he had dismissed as nothing more than a nagging sense of curiosity. Certainly nowhere near as powerful as what had torn him from a sound, if troubled, sleep moments before. He had been perfectly content to wallow in his misery, faced with the certainty that he was doomed to live out the rest of his days in his owl form. He really didn't want to see her ever again; her, the girl he had entrusted with a part of his power, only to have it all ripped away from him with those careless last words. So what had made him come to her now?  
  
Maybe that was it, he realized with a start. There must be some connection still, and he was reacting to it. Jareth felt the first shimmer of hope he'd felt all week. It was a pity he hadn't realized this sooner. Madness hadn't been the first thing to claim him, as he had predicted at the start. Instead, depression had sunk in, a sense of loss and failure so overwhelming that he'd almost decided to put an end to his misery. Jareth shuddered. He would never forget that feeling for as long as he lived. But at least it was over now. He had a chance to reclaim what was his after all.  
  
Still, one thing nagged at him. Why had he reacted like he had? Something had clearly triggered his headlong race to get to Sarah, in the middle of the night, when there was clearly nothing amiss. Something... the question was, what?  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah lingered in bed long after her alarm clock went off, wanting to avoid leaving the comfort of her warm blankets for as long as possible. It was Saturday, and that meant that she had to help with yard work. Not her favourite pastime under normal circumstances, but Karen had decided that the fence needed to be re-painted, and since the old paint was chipped and peeling, it needed to be scraped off. All the more reason for her to stay in bed. Sarah snuggled down deeper under the covers, wondering if her stepmother would buy the excuse that she felt too ill to work.  
  
No such luck. Karen came in a few moments later, demanding that her stepdaughter get out of bed and help. She rolled her eyes, clearly unconvinced as Sarah moaned about how sick she was. Perhaps she had been a bit too dramatic about it, Sarah mused as she was finally nagged into getting up 15 minutes later. Oh well, it really was too nice of a day to stay inside anyway.  
  
Armed with a little metal paint scraper and a walkman, Sarah set to removing bits of paint from the old fence out back. After about three hours of toiling away in the hot sun, she decided it was time for a hard- earned break. Judging from where the sun was hanging in the bright spring sky, it was past lunch anyway. She wiped the sheen of sweat from her forehead as she dropped the scraper onto the grass. She was well aware that she probably looked awful, all sticky with perspiration. There were flakes of paint stuck to her skin and clothing, and probably in her hair, too. Too bad she couldn't just hop in the shower, but her stepmother would insist that she finish the other half of the fence, so she'd really just end up getting hot and dirty all over again. At least she wasn't trying to impress anyone, she thought as she wandered into the kitchen.  
  
Someone had thoughtfully made some lemonade, and Sarah poured herself a glass before heading back out onto the back porch. As much as she'd have liked to stay in the much cooler house, she knew that Karen would pitch a fit if Sarah got paint chips on any of her furniture. She took a seat on the porch steps and absently surveyed her handiwork as she sipped her drink.  
  
A slight rustle in the branches above her caught her attention, and she looked up to see a familiar barn owl perched in the tree by her window, glaring at her balefully. Sarah smoothed down her messy hair self- consciously as the owl turned and moved further down the leafy branch, out of sight. It reminded her so strongly of the being she had defeated only a week before that she had to fight the urge to flee back into the house.  
  
'You're being ridiculous, Sarah,' she told herself. That barn owl had been around for years; there was no reason for her to feel so paranoid around it now. She certainly hadn't heard from the Goblin King since that night, and according to her friends, he was gone from the Underground. They had said 'gone' with such a sense of finality that Sarah had wondered if he was dead, but no, Hoggle assured her, he was just gone. Sarah had felt relieved; after all, she didn't wish him any harm, despite how he had manipulated her. He was an arrogant, childish, temperamental prick of a king, but that didn't mean she wanted him to die. In any case, he was gone, and so she likely wouldn't hear from him again. But on the other hand...  
  
She searched the branches for another glimpse of the owl, but he had either left or was keeping out of sight. The look he had given her... if the Goblin King wasn't in the Underground, then it was possible that he was here...  
  
"Argh! Stop it, Sarah! You're being paranoid again!" Of course it seemed to be giving her a dirty look; owls always looked irritated. She finished off the rest of the lemonade and got up to put the empty glass in the dishwasher. She caught sight of the owl again on the way inside, but it was gone when she came out again. With a shrug, she picked up her paint scraper and went back to her task, eager to finish and take that shower.  
  
It was another hour or so before she noticed that the back gate was open and realized that she hadn't seen Merlin in awhile.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
He'd have to be less conspicuous in the future, Jareth decided as he sat in one of the trees across from the girl's house. After all, if she started to entertain suspicions in that pretty head of hers, he'd never be able to get his powers back. Not that he had any ideas just yet, but he was almost positive that it would be easier with her cooperation, even if it was unwitting.  
  
Still, his reaction that morning puzzled him. The most logical conclusion was that he was still connected to his powers, certainly, yet he had no way of drawing on them. Had he truly been cut off from them, he shouldn't feel any sort of link to them at all, and yet he did, so by all rights he should still be able to use them. It didn't make any sense. If he still felt drawn to them, why couldn't he harness them?  
  
Still, it gave him something to strive for. He just had to figure out why his powers seemed to be blocked from him, and then it was simply a matter of time before he found a way around this little problem. All was not lost. And to think that the night before, he'd been ready to just give up. Him, the Goblin King, admit defeat.  
  
'This isn't over yet, dear Sarah,' he thought as he snatched up a squirming fieldmouse, 'I will have my revenge.' It was, after all, the girl's fault that he's had to suffer so.  
  
He abruptly dropped the mouse he'd been eating as a familiar scream pierced the air. Jareth's stomach lurched as he took to the sky, heading towards the source of the shriek. 'Sarah...' he wanted to cry out as he raced forward. That girl had better be alright, or he'd never forgive whoever was responsible. Because then he'd never get his powers back, he added quickly.  
  
He nearly overshot the sign he'd chosen to land on when he finally spotted her, inertia almost making him do a faceplant in the pavement below. He re- balanced quickly, heart threatening to burst out of his ribcage from his mad flight to get to her in time. She was kneeling in the middle of the street, doubled over with her hair hanging in front of her face. There was a navy blue car with it's front bumper mere inches from her, the vehicle's door left hanging ajar. A middle-aged woman, presumably the driver, was talking frantically into a payphone to his left. Jareth's breath caught in his throat. For one heart-stopping moment, he thought that his Sarah had been hit.  
  
He finally managed to catch a glimpse of her face, and very nearly fell off the sign again as relief flooded through him. It wasn't Sarah who was hurt. She was kneeling over something grey and furry, and oddly familiar.  
  
'The dog... it's her dog!'  
  
He scolded himself for his display of concern over her. This was the second time today that he'd come running like a lovestruck juvenile at the slightest sign of her distress, and it had all been over a scraggly dog! He really needed to work on ridding himself of this attachment towards her. She was, thankfully, too distracted to notice his presence, otherwise he would have felt even more foolish.  
  
The sound of her soft sobs drifted over, and Jareth felt a pang of guilt. She'd be depressed for weeks if the creature died, and besides, he told himself, he might lose his chance to ever gain his powers back if she became sad and listless. Luckily, the animal was breathing, from what he could tell from his perch. A moment later, it's tail started to thump lightly against the asphalt at the sound of Sarah's voice. The girl's worried sobs turned into ones of relief as she hugged her dog gently. "Oh, Merlin," she was murmuring, "You're going to be okay, I know you are..." Merlin lifted his head to lick her chin reassuringly.  
  
The door of the phone booth slid open as the woman stepped out and headed back over to Sarah. Jareth half-listened to her alternately reassure the girl that help was on the way and babble out apologies for hitting her dog. Now would be a good time to leave, he concluded, before Sarah actually started to pay attention to her surroundings.  
  
  
  
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Whelps, that's it for this time... more reviews make me post faster. n.- 


	3. Temper

Allo again! *wavles* Here's chapter three, in all it's.. umm... chapterness. Not sure why, but my chapters keep getting shorter. Not much I can do about it, I'm afraid. n.n() It wants to be a certain length, and there's nothing I can do to control it. Ah well.  
  
Disclaimer: Not mine. I own nothing. Nothing!  
  
  
  
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As it turned out, Jareth ended up following Sarah to the animal hospital after all. He still didn't know what was triggering it, but the strange yearning to be near Sarah (and his powers, he added firmly) sprang back up again about five minutes after she had left with her parents for the vet's. Knowing about it didn't make it any easier to ignore. Try as he might, it overpowered him in the end. Which was why he now found himself sitting on another sign outside of the animal clinic, waiting for that troublesome girl to come back out. He didn't particularly like it here. The clinic was located in one of the more relaxed business areas of town; nevertheless, it was still too industrialized for Jareth's tastes. There were far too many cars, far too many people going about their business, and most of them felt the need to stop and stare. They had quite obviously never seen a barn owl up close before, if at all. Jareth sniffed disdainfully and ruffled his feathers. It was no wonder, with the way they were making such a fuss over such a little thing.  
  
The girl was certainly taking her time in there, Jareth noted with a yawn. It had been almost 45 minutes now, and he was getting rather bored. He was in the process of nodding off when she finally emerged, and judging by the expression on her face, things didn't look good for the dog, Merlin.  
  
Her father draped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed reassuringly. "Cheer up, pumpkin. The vet said that if he makes it through the night, he'll be okay." Sarah's eyes shone with unshed tears, and she wiped them dry with the edge of her sleeve.  
  
"He didn't sound very optimistic..." She sniffed and looked almost angry, and for one moment, Jareth was certain she would launch into one of her childish tantrums. Instead, her bottom lip trembled, and she didn't say another word as she climbed into the back seat of her father's car. Jareth blinked in surprise. His Sarah, speechless? Not even an 'it's not fair'? Her animal's condition must have really upset her if she wasn't even bothering to vent through her usual theatrics. It was a pity he could do nothing to help her. Then again, it was her own fault that he was so powerless, he reminded himself. It was foolish of her to place such sentimental value in such a short-lived creature, just as it had been foolish of him to place his hopes in a mere mortal girl. Although he certainly knew better than to form an attachment with a dog.  
  
He waited until Sarah's car was well out of sight before he made any move to leave. Once again, she had been far too preoccupied to notice his presence. Still, it wouldn't do to draw attention to himself until he could be certain that she wouldn't see him accidentally. He waited as long as he dared before the need to follow her returned. Bloody inconvenient, that. It was almost like being kept on an invisible tether. Straying too far resulted in far more discomfort than he was willing to tolerate. That would have to be one of the first things to go, he decided as he headed after her. He wasn't about to just sit back and let himself be so easily led around.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah felt numb as they pulled into the driveway. As soon as she could, she was out of the car and back in her room, where she stubbornly refused to come out. Fortunately, Karen had told her on the way home that she didn't have to finish the fence, so that was out of the way. Sarah doubted she could have done it anyway.  
  
She sat at her vanity, staring listlessly at her reflectiong. "I need you," she whispered after a moment.  
  
Nothing. Sarah blinked and tried again. "Hoggle? Ludo? Didymus? I need you..."  
  
Still no response. The mirror simply reflected her own image back at her. There was no sign that anyone had heard her. Sarah tried one last time, her voice cracking as more tears fell. Why? Why wouldn't they come when she needed them the most? She turned from the vanity and threw herself onto the bed, letting her tears flow freely.  
  
"Damn you, Jareth," she cursed bitterly as she sobbed into her pillow. "Why won't they come?"  
  
Outside, Jareth winced. Honestly, did she really feel the need to damn him further? Hadn't she learned that her words held power? If he didn't feel so tired, he probably would have panicked. As it was, there was little he could do but sit back and hope that the little fool hadn't meant it. Really, she acted as though it was his fault that she had tried to summon her friends in broad daylight. That sort of thing only worked at night in this realm; they wouldn't have even heard her.  
  
He stretched his wings and suppressed a yawn. He hadn't spent nearly enough time in this form over the last century, and it was taking him a while to fall into a normal sleeping pattern. Mind you, requiring Sarah to stay in one place so that he could catch a decent nap certainly wasn't helping much. He may very well end up becoming the world's first diurnal barn owl, at this rate. Not that he planned to stay in this form for very much longer, but it was difficult to go unnoticed when he wasn't even behaving like the rest of the species. Besides, he still needed a plan. How to go about getting the girl to voluntarily give him his power back, that was the problem. He already knew he couldn't take it back by force. He needed something foolproof, something that would have him out of this role as wandering vagabond and back in his castle where he belonged. Then he could decide how to extract his revenge.  
  
He became so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't even notice when Sarah got up and went to stand at the open window. Her sharp intake of breath caught him completely off-guard.  
  
"Jareth..."  
  
Jareth jerked his head up in surprise, looking very much like the proverbial deer in the headlights. He felt rooted to the spot. She was staring at him with a sort of shocked accusation, and all he could do was stare back guiltily like a child caught raiding the cookie jar. How in all the realms had she figured it out?  
  
Sarah's mind was racing. It was too much of a coincidence. Here she'd just been cursing the Goblin King, her friends wouldn't answer her summons, this owl kept showing up everywhere, and now he was here again, right outside her window, watching her. She could have sworn she'd caught glimpses of him on the way to and from the vet's office. And he had jumped at the sound of his name just now. It couldn't all be chance. He was spying on her, he was here to ruin her life! She blindly groped around for the nearest item and flung it at him.  
  
Jareth blinked as a spoon went whizzing past, followed by a ceramic mug and Sarah's alarm clock, which barely missed his head. He shook off his surprise and dodged the shoe that came flying next, letting out a screech of protest. What was she doing!? A heavy book smacked him right in the face, spine first. Jareth staggered, stunned and blinking, before he shook himself and decided that he'd had enough. With an injured squalk and an icy glare which quite clearly stated 'all right, I'm leaving!', he dove from his perch just in time to avoid being hit by a familiar music box. It hit the branch instead, shattering into several pieces.  
  
Sarah watched the pieces fall to the ground below, her fury replaced by shock at seeing what she'd just done. She looked up at the owl as it flew away, and a wave of guilt swept over her. What had come over her? There was absolutely no evidence to support her conviction that it had been Jareth, nothing except for her own paranoia. She didn't even know that the owl she'd seen by the vet's was the same owl. The one that hung around her house had been around for years... Sarah sank to the floor, feeling horrible for what she'd just done. She had let her frustration over Merlin and her friends take over, and now it would probably never come back. Tears stung at her eyes again, and she wept bitterly, stress taking it's toll on her frayed nerves. Just what kind of person was she turning into?  
  
  
  
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Jareth sat in the copse of trees across from Sarah's house, nursing his sore forehead. It was a good thing he had feathers in this form. Had he been in his other form, he would have a very unsightly bruise forming along the bridge of his nose and his forehead. At least this way, it was hidden. That girl could sure throw hard when she was angry. He thought of the clock or the music box hitting him and winced.  
  
He listened as the soft sound of her weeping drifted over. That was another advantage of being trapped in his owl form, although there were few. He could hear her quite clearly from his spot among the trees, despite being a good quarter of a mile away. Although, admittedly, it helped that the evening was unusually quiet. He ignored the nagging sense of guilt that came with the sounds of her grief, reminding himself that it was her own doing.  
  
Jareth sighed as he shook his head to clear it. This certainly changed things. The first thing he needed to do now was find out if she really knew it was him. If she did, then he would have to re-think everything. And he had absolutely no idea where to start.  
  
  
  
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Like it? Hate it? Want to beat me with a spoon? o.o Tell me! n.n 


	4. Peril

Chapter four... is anyone reading this? n.n() Point of interest for ya. Barn owls have several other names aside from 'barn owl', such as 'ghost owl' and 'hissing owl'. My personal favourites? 'Hobgoblin owl' and 'Monkey-faced owl', of course. n.~ *snickers*  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah... not mine. *sigh*  
  
  
  
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Sarah didn't sleep well that night. Mostly, she thought about Merlin. The vet hadn't shown much confidence in his recovery when they had first brought him in. In fact, he had taken one look at her dog and recommended that he be euthanized. Sarah was terrified that he wouldn't make it. All sorts of awful scenarios kept playing through her mind, until she finally cried herself to sleep.  
  
She awoke the next morning to a chilly, overcast sky, which matched her gloomy mood perfectly. Sarah let out a sigh as she made her way down to the kitchen for breakfast. No one else appeared to be home, and the house was eerily quiet. She sat down with a bowl of cereal and nearly jumped out of her skin as the phone rang. Sarah stumbled out of her seat and ran to answer it, stubbing her toe on the leg of the table in the process. "Hello?" She grunted into the receiver, balancing awkwardly on one foot while she rubbed the other.  
  
"Hello, Sarah Williams?" The voice on the other end asked in a friendly tone.  
  
"Speaking," Sarah confirmed as she attempted to stand up straight with her foot still clutched in one hand. Unfortunately, she ended up overbalancing instead and, flailing wildly, she toppled over onto the floor with a crash, dropping the phone in the process. She fumbled for the reciever with a mutter and brought it back to her ear, blushing at her own clumsiness. "Sorry, what?" She asked sheepishly.  
  
"I was just asking if you were all right over there," the woman on the phone repeated. Sarah nodded, then felt dumb for doing so when she remembered that the woman couldn't see her.  
  
"Err, yes, I'm fine..." '..I just have all the grace and coordination of a tipsy elephant,' she added to herself.  
  
"Good," the woman sounded relieved, "Well, Sarah, this is Angela calling from Eastside Animal Clinic. Do you remember me? Dr. Trapp's assistant?"  
  
"Y-yes.." Sarah stuttered, recalling the friendly young graduate who had helped them with Merlin until the vet had been able to see them. She gripped the phone more tightly to her ear and sat down in the nearest chair, her newly-acquired bruises forgotten. 'Please,' she thought, crossing her fingers, 'let it be good news...'  
  
"Well," Angela continued in the same pleasantly calm voice, "I'm just calling to let you know that Merlin's fine. He made it through the night and he's starting to show some improvement. We're going to want to keep him here for observation for another night or so, but he's making a remarkable recovery."  
  
"Really? He's all right?" Sarah grinned, relieved. "Would it be all right to come and visit him today?"  
  
"Well, Dr. Trapp still wants to run a few tests to make sure that we didn't miss anything, but you should be able to see him in a few hours."  
  
"Really? That'd be great! Thanks so much!" Sarah couldn't stop grinning as she hung up the phone. She finished her cereal quickly and went to put her bowl into the sink, noting that the owl was back and was watching her from the fence outside the window. So she hadn't scared him away after all, she thought happily.  
  
"Hear that, Jareth?" She raised her chin defiantly, the corners of her mouth twitching with the effort to not smile. She gave up and broke into another huge grin. "Merlin's alright, isn't that great?" The owl bobbed its head to the side and continued to stare at her. Sarah giggled. Jareth was a good name for it, she decided whimsically. It would probably drive the real Goblin King nuts if he ever found out. That thought made Sarah snicker as she headed out of the kitchen for a shower.  
  
  
  
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Jareth -was- going nuts, but not for the reason Sarah had guessed at. Women were utterly confusing creatures. She'd just done it again, calling him by name and acting defiant towards him. It really seemed as if she knew, after all. So then why had she smiled at him seconds later? The Sarah he'd confronted in his labyrinth would have never acted in such a way towards him, as if sharing in a personal victory. She'd seemed entirely too happy. Unless she had been gloating.  
  
That had to be it, he glowered. She knew it was him, and now she was laughing at him. She had probably come to the conclusion that he'd been the one responsible for her dog's accident, and was trying to rub his nose in it. Ridiculous notion. If he was capable of revenge right now, he'd have thought up something a lot more satisfying than injuring an animal. It was rather insulting.  
  
He jumped as a loud crash of thunder broke into his thoughts, followed a few seconds later by a soft drop of water landing on his head. Jareth blinked as the rain quickly turned into a downpour, soaking him in next to no time. He shook water from his feathers and took off for the nearest dry place, cursing his luck. How typical that it would start to rain. Deciding that somewhere populated would be a bad idea, he headed for the woods.  
  
Not too far off, he managed to find a large hollow in a dead oak. It looked to be inhabited already, but Jareth couldn't tell what lived there, and he was too cold and wet to care. He settled into the down-filled crevice and sneezed, shivering. There was no possible way he would ever get used to this sort of life. Not that he'd never been caught out in the rain, but he had never been forced to deal with it before, having the option of leaving any time he wanted. Now he was stuck here, freezing and miserable. And back to square one.  
  
Jareth wracked his brain, but nothing came to mind. If Sarah knew, he didn't know how he'd get out of this. He had nothing to work with. She hated him, after all. She wouldn't help him willingly. He sighed and curled up to try and get some rest while he could, before that girl decided to run off somewhere. The soft sound of the rain soon lulled him to sleep.  
  
He stirred a little while later, woken by who knew what. The rain was still falling steadily, dripping from leaves and turning the mulch below pungent. Jareth blinked sleep out of his eyes, now fully awake, and listened restlessly for a moment. He'd dreamt that he'd heard something.  
  
He heard it again a moment later, closer this time. A resonating, territorial hoot that sent a wave of primal fear rushing through him, and Jareth could have sworn his heart stopped beating. For a moment, he didn't dare to move, didn't dare to breathe. He suddenly understood what sort of animal lived in his temporary shelter, and the urge to flee took over.  
  
He clambered out of the hollow and practically flung himself into the nearest patch of undergrowth, freezing mid-scramble when he caught the faint sound of wingbeats. Or rather, the almost undetectable sound of rain being displaced. All owls had special wing adaptations that made their flight soundless, which, combined with their excellent hearing, made them all the more deadly as hunters. Only the soft sound of water droplets hitting the raptor's wings and the broken pattern of falling rain gave it away. Jareth held his breath as a Great Horned Owl came into view and alighted on the brim of the hollow where he'd been only moments before. Good gods, it was -huge-. It was so close, only a few meters away... there was no way Jareth would be able to escape if it saw him.  
  
The horned owl gave a soft 'waaa-waaaark' noise as it inspected it's roost, followed by something resembling a screech of indignation. Jareth felt cold terror grip him as the other bird swivelled it's head around to look directly at him.  
  
  
  
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Wow, I actually managed to leave off at a cliffhanger! Bwahaha! =3 Remember, boys and girls, reviews make me post faster. n.- 


	5. Escape

Thanks for the reviews! n.n *iggles* Oh no, Xellina, you've uncovered my horrible secret.. n.- *grins and runs from rabid PETA members* It's in the interest of good storytelling, really it is! Oi vey on a stick, my chapters get shorter and shorter.. o.o Hopefully y'all can forgive me, I promise they'll start getting longer again soon. Really! =3 Special thanks goes out to Cormak3032, my wonderful creative consultant and one- girl cheerleader squad. n.- *DB lollies to Corrie*  
  
Disclaimer: Bwaha! I DO own the horned owl! Well, I don't own an actual horned owl, but you know what I mean! n.n Unfortunately, I don't own anyone else in this story. Yet.  
  
  
  
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Oh gods, he was going to die.  
  
Jareth's mouth had gone uncomfortably dry, but he didn't dare swallow. There was no way, absolutely no way he could out-fly a Great Horned Owl. He was surrounded by underbrush, with thick tangles of leaves and branches between him and freedom. All the other owl had to do was drop down onto him, and he wouldn't stand a chance.  
  
The horned owl snapped it's beak and let out a sound very close to a growl as it leaned forward and assumed a threatening stance. It knew he was there, there was no doubt about that. In spite of not being able to see him, it knew. If he so much as twitched, it would know exactly where he was in the almost chokingly tight plants which hid him. Without warning, it folded it's wings and let itself drop from it's perch, intending to fall directly onto the intruder cowering below.  
  
Jareth saw the owl rushing towards him and panicked. This was it. 'You're dead either way,' his mind screamed at him, 'Flee, damn you!'  
  
He scrambled out of the way as fast as he could, no longer caring about noise as the other owl slammed into the foliage. Jareth exploded from the brush an instant later, sending water droplets flying everywhere, and caught a glimpse of his attacker's furious yellow eyes as it hissed angrily. One of it's legs was entangled in a branch, by some small miracle. It was only caught for an instant, but every split-second was critical. It was after him in a heartbeat, gaining on him just as quickly.  
  
Jareth pumped his wings furiously, gaining height in a desperate attempt to leave his pursuer below. The other owl was above him in an instant, talons outstretched to snatch him mid-air. Jareth immediately folded his wings and let himself fall, although not fast enough to avoid losing a tailfeather to the great monster chasing him. He dropped into the trees, and the sound of twigs snapping above him told him that the other owl had done the same. Luckily for him, the horned owl's larger body didn't slip through the branches as easily as his smaller form did, and that slowed it down by a few seconds, buying Jareth precious time.  
  
He felt like his wings would fall off as he made a beeline for the nearest group of houses, hoping against hope that his attacker would be daunted by the human settlement. The horned owl was right behind him again, and gaining quickly. Gods, he wanted to moan, why hadn't he just taken shelter inside Sarah's garage like he should have? He was tiring rapidly, and his lungs felt like they would burst. His pursuer showed no signs of being frightened off as they burst out of the trees and into someone's back yard. One of Sarah's neighbours, Jareth's tired mind registered.  
  
He brightened as he spotted a possible means of escape and dove for it, hitting the kitty door and tumbling inside. There was a satisfying 'thunk' from the other side as the door swung back outwards, the wet rubber slapping the larger bird in the face. It gave a scream of protest and jumped back, tilting it's head to the side and eyeing the door. Horned owls were notoriously oppourtunistic and far more daring around humans than most other birds of prey, but even it wasn't daring enough to go inside a house full of people. It turned and retreated to a nearby swing, where it waited.  
  
Inside, Jareth panted from where he lay sprawled on the floor, letting his tired wings hang loosely at his sides. He silently thanked whatever powers had decided to spare him as he marvelled at his good fortune. He was alive and, more importantly, relatively unscathed. Had he been injured, he wouldn't have lasted much longer in the wild. He let his eyes fall shut in relief as the adrenalin slowly loosened it's death grip on him and his wildly beating heart slowed back down to a normal pace.  
  
"Snowy?" A voice came drifting into the hallway, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps. "Where have you been all day, you silly kitty?" Jareth's head shot up. Oh, no...  
  
Ms. Andrews came into the back hallway, expecting to find the family cat. She had just finished polishing the hardwood floors and she didn't want Snowy tracking mud all over the house. She wandered in, towel in hand, having every intention of cleaning off that cat's paws before he mucked up her floors.  
  
What she found instead was a wet, bedraggled-looking owl, staring up at her with a wary sort of dread. There were bits of soggy leaves, mud, and heaven only knew what else clinging to it's damp feathers, and she scowled in annoyance as she noted that the muck was all over her floors as well. She turned her attention back to the dishevelled thing in her hallway.  
  
"Oooh.." she huffed irritably, "Out, out!" Jareth scrambled to his feet and hissed at her as she closed in on him, towel held out in front of her to catch him with. He backed into the door and glanced around, searching frantically for escape. The next thing he knew, the towel was covering his body and obscuring his vision, and a pair of hands grabbed him firmly by the sides. He struggled in vain as he felt himself being lifted off of the floor. She wouldn't...  
  
She did. The back door creaked open, and suddenly the towel was gone and Jareth was airborne. He spread his tired wings to steady his fall, saving himself from a very undignified faceplant on the back porch. "Go on, shoo!" she ordered before slamming the door.  
  
The horned owl was waiting for him, he noted, hopping quickly in the other direction and diving off the far end of the porch as it closed in. Apparently his luck was still holding, because there was a small opening dug out under the edge of the porch, just barely big enough for him to squeeze through. The inside of the porch was hollow, and Jareth backed away from the entrance as the other bird snapped it's beak in frustration and peered in through the opening.  
  
A low growl came from behind Jareth, and he turned to find a fluffy white cat crouched against one of the support beams. It glared at him balefully and hissed. Jareth hissed back. Today just wasn't his day.  
  
The sound of footsteps on the porch above him distracted him, and Jareth turned his attention back to his assailant. The woman was back, judging by the mop that abruptly knocked the horned owl to the side. It gave a startled cry and immediately took off, it's quarry forgotten. The woman sighed and retreated back into the house, muttering about birds invading her yard and attacking her cat.  
  
The cat let out another warning growl when it's visitor didn't appear to be going anywhere. Jareth turned and fixed it with a resentful stare. 'Impatient creature, aren't you?' he wanted to snap as he turned to go, 'Alright, I'm leaving.' He seemed to be thinking that a lot lately. 


	6. Offers

Next chapterness. n.n Not nearly as exciting as last chapter, I'm afraid. n.n Can't be helped, things have to be set up. n.- Hopefully it doesn't bore you all to tears.  
  
Disclaimer: Woot! I actually own some *people* in this chapter! Alex and Mrs. Jenkinson are both mine. Dr. Trapp is sort of mine, although that one's sort of debatable. Not that they're anywhere near as cool as the *actual* characters, but hey, it's better than nothing. n.n() I don't own anyone else, sadly enough  
  
  
  
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On Tuesday, Sarah's father took Merlin home from the clinic. Sarah was a bit disappointed that she'd still be in school at the time, but she was grateful that he was being released a day earlier than anticipated. She came home to find him lying on a blanket in the kitchen. His tail thumped on the tile floor as she entered, and he lifted his head to lick her proffered hand.  
  
"Hey boy, how you doing?" She smiled and scratched him behind the ears. He certainly looked a lot better than he had when she'd visited him on Sunday. They'd been worried about internal bleeding, but as it turned out, the damage had been limited to a bit of bruising, plus a few fractured ribs and a broken foreleg to show for it. Dr. Trapp had seemed quite surprised by this; apparently, Merlin's injuries should have been much worse, and he was very lucky. Sarah was just glad that he was alright and on the road to recovery.  
  
The woman who had hit him had called back several times since the accident, apologizing and offering to do whatever she could. She'd even gone so far as to pay Merlin's vet bill. Sarah had been angry with her at first, but her opinion of the woman quickly changed. She'd made a mistake, and now she was doing her best to make good on it. It was good to know that there were still people in the world who were willing to do that. In fact, the Williams family had invited her over for dinner that evening.  
  
Sarah took a plate of cookies and headed up to her room, wanting to get her homework out of the way before dinner. Fortunately, she only had a few math problems to deal with, which was a little bit surprising when she thought of how inattentive she'd been all day. She grabbed the plate and settled onto her bed with her work, determined to get this little chore out of the way.  
  
She was on the last two problems when a tap at her window broke into her concentration. She glanced up and saw nothing. Shrugging, she went back to crunching numbers. A moment later, the tapping came again. Sarah let out a sigh as she tossed her worksheets onto the bed and flounced over to the window to see what was causing the noise.  
  
Sliding the window open, she looked out to see her next door neighbour down in her yard, with a slingshot in hand. She sighed and propped her arms on the sill as she leaned forward. "What do you want?" she yelled.  
  
"Hey Sar, you busy?" he asked with his usual air of nonchalance. Sarah rolled her eyes. She used to play with him all the time when they were both younger, and although their interests ran in different directions now, he still liked to pester her on occasion.  
  
"Doing homework," she called, letting her annoyance color her voice. She really hated having her concentration broken.  
  
"Fun," he commented dryly. Sarah stuck her tongue out at him, and he gave her a lazy smirk. "You shouldn't french long-distance."  
  
"Look, is there a reason you're bugging me right now, Alex? Because if not, I'd really like to get back to finishing my math homework." She sighed in annoyance. Her neighbour had changed a lot in the last few years, going in for some things that Sarah would rather not get involved with. He just wasn't the same person anymore.  
  
Then again, maybe she'd been the one to change. Who knew for sure?  
  
"Whoa, chill, Sar," Alex was saying with a shake of his head, chin-length mousey hair whipping around with the motion. "Geeze, you've gotten uptight lately. I was just gonna ask if you wanted to hang for awhile, got some buds coming into town and thought you might like to meet 'em. Who knows," he added, "You might actually have some fun."  
  
It was Sarah's turn to shake her head, glad for an excuse. Hanging out with Alex and his stoner friends wasn't exactly her idea of a good time. "No, I can't, we've got company over for dinner tonight."  
  
"So? Ditch the fam and come have some fun with me." He lit up a cigarette and took a long drag before continuing, "You don't get out enough, Sar. You're gonna turn into a recluse."  
  
"I can't," Sarah repeated, "She's sort of coming to see me, so I have to be there."  
  
"Oh well, your loss," Alex shrugged. "At least tag along Friday night, then. We're gonna hang out down by the river, have a big bonfire, roast a few dogs. Don't wanna miss out on that. C'mon."  
  
Sarah dropped her forehead onto her outstretched arms, exasperated at his persistence. Try as she might, she couldn't really think of a single good excuse to turn down the offer, and besides, it did sound like fun. It was true, anyway; she didn't get out and have fun nearly as often as she ought to.  
  
"All right," she conceded with a sigh of resignation, "Just as long as you promise you won't try and get me drunk or high or anything like that, got it?"  
  
"Hey, no problem," Alex threw up his hands in mock surrender, the half- burned cigarette held between two fingers. "Just don't back out on me this time, alright? I don't see you enough as it is. You're gonna turn all pasty from staying in your room so much."  
  
"Whatever," she rolled her eyes yet again at his teasing. She wasn't really in the mood for his deadpan sarcasm. "See you Friday."  
  
Sarah slid the window shut and turned back to her homework, absently wondering what she'd just gotten herself in to.  
  
  
  
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Jareth waited until the boy had crossed back over to his own yard before he hopped out of his hiding place, seething. Had that cheeky little brat actually asked -his- Sarah out on a date? And she had accepted, although it had been fairly obvious that she hadn't really wanted to.  
  
Well, he would just have to see to it that the endeavour went less than smoothly. He couldn't let the girl, his Sarah, spend so much time around that boy. He'd seen him around her before, once or twice. Ill-mannered swine, not at all worthy to so much as be in the presence of someone like Sarah. Really, that girl had dreadful taste in the company she chose to keep. Jareth really didn't approve of the insolent youth any more than he had when he had still been fawning over Sarah. His Sarah. His to love, his to trust (however foolish that had proved to be), and his to take his revenge upon. And he simply wouldn't have some boy interfering. It was a matter of principle.  
  
Besides, he added with a scowl, the little whelp certainly hadn't redeemed himself in Jareth's eyes by taking potshots at the banished King with that slingshot. It was a pity Sarah hadn't caught him doing -that-.  
  
Jareth nursed the pea-sized bruises forming on his side as he mulled it over. He wasn't overly familiar with the outing the little imbecile had described, although the part about roasting dogs sounded utterly barbaric; not something he would have ever pictured Sarah taking part in. He grudgingly admitted that he had no idea what to expect. It was probably best if he waited until he could assess the situation first-hand, and then come up with a suitable scheme from there.  
  
Either way, that little snot would have to be taught a lesson for interfering.  
  
  
  
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Sarah ran to answer the door as the doorbell rang, opening it to admit her guest. Allison Jenkinson, or simply Mrs. J as she was called at work, turned out to be a cheerful, good-humored woman with sparkling dark eyes and a warm smile. She had the air of a favourite elementary school teacher, the kind of adult whom children naturally got along with, and Sarah found herself liking the woman immediately as she offered to take her coat.  
  
"You're right on time," she told the older woman, "Dinner's just being set out."  
  
"Thank you, dear," Mrs Jenkinson smiled and followed Sarah to the dining room.  
  
Karen looked up from setting a steaming dish of vegetables on the table. "Mrs. Jenkinson, so glad you could make it!" She flashed a brilliant hostess smile as she moved around the table to shake the other woman's hand.  
  
"Please, just Allison is fine," she replied, returning the handshake.  
  
"Sarah told us about your help on Saturday," Mr. Williams said as he moved to do the same. "Thanks again."  
  
"Oh, it was the least I could do, considering it was my fault to begin with," she waved a hand dismissively, "I really feel I should apologize again..."  
  
"Oh, don't worry about it, really," Karen smiled as she offered her guest a seat.  
  
"Speaking of whom, how is he?" Allison asked, "I was so glad to hear that he was released today."  
  
"Oh, he's doing fine!" Sarah smiled, "The vet said he'd never seen such a quick recovery."  
  
"That's wonderful to hear. I feel so relieved." Their guest sighed.  
  
"Well," Robert announced, "Now that we're all here, let's dig in, shall we?" Everyone made various sounds of agreement as they all sat down. "It looks delicious, Karen," he told his wife, who smiled her thanks.  
  
"So, Allison," Karen began conversationally as she served herself some potatoes, "What do you do for a living?"  
  
"Well, I'm a librarian, actually," Allison told them, "I used to work for a big corporate firm, but the inherent office politics got to be a bit much after awhile. My husband still enjoys it, though. That's where I met him," she added as she passed the salt.  
  
"Oh, a librarian," Robert commented, taking a bite of chicken, "That sounds like an interesting line of work."  
  
"Well, not so much 'interesting' as relaxing without being boring." Allison laughed, "It's certainly different. There's not really a lot involved other than cataloging books and keeping track of loans. I do get to read to groups of children every Tuesday and Thursday, though." She sighed wistfully, "Always wanted kids of my own, but Jeff and I never managed to have any. Anyway," she continued as she speared a potato, "I figure it's something I can do until I retire, at any rate. Not too much stress involved in shelving books."  
  
"That sounds like a good job for you, Sarah," her father commented none-too- subtly. Sarah squashed the urge to argue. Karen had decided recently that her stepdaughter needed a paying job, and of course, Sarah's father always agreed with whatever his wife wanted. She really was playing on a one- person team sometimes.  
  
"Actually, now that you mention it, we do have some openings for part-time assistants," Allison supplied helpfully. "I'm sure Sarah would do well at it."  
  
"There you go, Sarah, why don't you take her up on it?" Robert pressed.  
  
Sarah sighed. If it wasn't one of her parents, it was all the adults in the vicinity. It just wasn't fair.. she caught herself thinking that and smiled wryly. Jareth would have a fit if he ever heard her utter that particular phrase... she firmly pushed all thoughts of the Labyrinth's ruler out of her mind.  
  
Come to think of it, though, the job did sound appealing. She'd have constant access to all those books, and be in one of her favourite places all the time. It sounded like something she could do easily, and Allison had said that there was very little stress involved. And it would be nice to have some extra pocket money. Most importantly, it would get her father and stepmother off of her back for a while.  
  
She turned to Allison with a smile. "You know, I may just take you up on that, after all." 


	7. Cookout

Allo! I apologize in advance for some of the language in this chapter. What can I say? Alex and his groupies are a bunch of potty-mouths. n.n()  
  
Disclaimer: *brightens* Alex and his friends are mine! n.n Errr.... greeeeat.... o.  
  
  
  
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Friday swung around quickly. A little -too- quickly for Sarah's tastes, but there really wasn't much she could do about it. She still wasn't sure if she was entirely comfortable with the idea of going anywhere with Alex. After all, she hadn't actually spent any time with him for so long that she didn't think she knew anything about him any more. It was almost like hanging out with a complete stranger. A very persistent stranger. And she didn't know any of his friends, either, so she probably couldn't count on help from that quarter.  
  
Sarah sat at her dressing table, toying with her hairbrush and waiting for her neighbour. Her old friends just hadn't held the same interest for her after her mother had left and her father had re-married. She really hadn't -meant- to drift away from Alex, but he just hadn't shared her increasing love for fantasy and they'd gradually started playing together less and less. Sarah lost herself in her daydreams and he took up other interests.  
  
She sighed and reached for the Goblin King statuette sitting on her desk, absently strightening creases in the small replica's clothing. Despite her less-than-pleasant encounter with the real thing, the Labyrinth and it's king still held a special place in her heart. He had certainly lived up to her expectations, playing out the part of cold, cunning villain flawlessly. She was willing to admit to herself now that she would have been disappointed if he hadn't, even if she had been too busy trying to best him to take note of it at the time. Oh, she still thought of him as an arrogant jerk, but she expected him to be. And her obsession with the Labyrinth had been an important part of her childhood, after all.  
  
Sarah placed the statue back on the desk with a smile. Since her experience Underground, she had come to recognize her fascination with the fantasy realm as an escape from reality when she needed a break for awhile. It didn't make her love it any less. Nor did she doubt it's existence, although she'd come to terms with the fact that it was a way of hiding from life. She supposed she'd outgrow it eventually; she had already stopped reciting lines every day, the book hidden safely away in a desk drawer. But she prayed to whoever was listening that she'd never lose that sense of magic, the childlike abandon with which she'd let her imagination run wild. She could see herself reading the story to her own children one day.  
  
Okay, maybe not. She wouldn't want to wish anyone else away by accident. Not that the words in the book had been any good for that, but there wasn't any sense in taking chances.  
  
"Sarah?" Her father poked his head into the room around the partially-open door. "There's a truck full of boys out front asking for you." He sounded surprised. Probably because Sarah had neglected to tell him what she was doing this weekend, hoping somewhere deep down that if she didn't admit it out loud, it would end up not happening. Oh well. She really should have known better than to think that Alex would let her off that easily.  
  
"Just a second, I'll go deal with it," She told her father and ran downstairs, reaching for her jacket.  
  
"Sarah, where are you going?" Karen asked in a testy voice, holding Toby in one arm.  
  
"Out," was Sarah's vague reply as she headed for the door.  
  
"What? Sarah, you're supposed to be watching your brother tonight!" Karen protested. "I don't even know those boys outside! What are you doing running off with a bunch of strange young men?"  
  
"You're the one who's always telling me that I need to get out more," Sarah rounded on her stepmother in a sugary voice, "Aren't you happy that I am?"  
  
"Well, I wish you'd tell me if you were going out!" Karen snapped, "Your father and I had plans for tonight!"  
  
"Yeah, well now I'm telling you," Sarah threw over her shoulder as she retreated outside, letting the door slam behind her.  
  
"Sarah!" Karen came running out after her, still holding Toby. "Sarah, you can't go! You don't have permission!"  
  
"You're not my mother, Karen!" Sarah shot back as she clambered awkwardly into the back of a dirty, beat up old white pickup. A pair of hands grabbed her wrists to pull her all the way in as the truck lurched forward. Sarah lost her balance and fell against Alex, who grinned at her.  
  
"Nice one, Sar," he commented. Sarah blushed and pulled away.  
  
"It's not my fault I can't stay standing in a moving vehicle," she muttered, taking note of the bags of chips and pair of coolers beside her.  
  
"Not that, your stepmom." He gave her a lazy smile, "She's a dyke, isn't she?" Sarah burst out laughing.  
  
"Yeah, she's a pain," she giggled, suddenly glad that she'd decided to come. A cookout by the river was way better than staying home with her cranky brother. And it felt really good to defy Karen. "So, who's he?" She asked with a jerk of her head towards the guy seated across from her.  
  
"I'm Jason," the redhead volunteered, reaching forward to shake Sarah's hand.  
  
"Sarah," she said in response. She couldn't see the people inside the truck, but that was alright. She'd meet them all soon enough.  
  
"Gotta pick up some ice, then we're set," Alex offered conversationally as Sarah dug around in one of the coolers for something to drink. Beer, beer, beer... ah-hah! She dug out the can of coke and pulled the tab. Alex laughed at the face she made when she took a sip.  
  
"It's warm."  
  
"Hence the ice," Alex smirked, and Sarah nodded.  
  
"Yeah, okay, ice it is."  
  
Having run that particular errand, they headed off for the river. It was actually fairly close to Sarah's house, only about half an hour away on foot and five minutes by truck. It had a park beside it with a bunch of scattered picnic tables, and metal fire pits with big iron grills that swung overtop them. The park doubled as a campground in the summer, and in spite of it being a bit early for tourists, Sarah spotted a camper or two as they drove down the dirt road in search of a nice spot.  
  
They finally settled on a small clearing in the dense trees, although there wasn't enough room to drive the truck straight in and they had to park on the side of the road. Everyone climbed out and grabbed something to carry as they headed over, Alex making introductions on the way. Someone went to work on starting a fire in the pit while everyone else laughed and joked around.  
  
Sarah snickered at something the one other girl in their group said. Her name was Kate, or something similar. In spite of her earlier misgivings, she really was enjoying herself so far. While she'd quickly learned that no one here shared her passion for fantasy, they'd all managed to find things to talk about anyway, and were getting along pretty well. She added a sarcastic comment to someone's joke and they all laughed again. Sarah felt.. included. It was a nice feeling.  
  
"Holy shit," someone commented, "I just saw the biggest fucking owl over there."  
  
"Really?" Sarah looked in the direction he was pointing, "Where? I don't see it."  
  
"It -was- right over there, but it's gone now," the other boy shrugged. "Great big white thing. Had to be the size of a housecat. Never actually seen a live owl before. Creepy."  
  
Sarah frowned thoughtfully. Big white owl? That sounded awfully familiar, she noted dryly. Mind you, they -were- in the middle of the woods, so it was unlikely that it was the same owl that hung around her neighbourhood.  
  
"I've seen bigger. Little fuckers are all over the place around here," Alex was saying, as if reading her mind. "My old lady was complaining about how one supposedly flew in through the cat door. Weird shit, if you ask me."  
  
"Really? The cat door? That's weird." Sarah commented, turning her attention away from the woods where the owl had allegedly been spotted.  
  
"Yeah, don't know if I believe her, though. She's got an overactive imagination. Although the little bastards are getting braver lately, so who knows?" Alex shrugged expressively.  
  
"Weird," Sarah repeated, casting one last glance at the trees before someone said something to make her laugh, and she firmly pushed the owl out of her mind.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
It was times like these when Jareth wished he could utter obscenities in this form. Loudly.  
  
The house he'd hidden in days previously just -had- to belong to that damnable brat, didn't it? Jareth cursed fate. By Underground law, he couldn't physically harm the little wretch now. His life had been spared by taking shelter there, and he was indebted to the house's occupants. Which meant that he was indebted to the mortal as well.  
  
Damn it all to hell. He'd had a lovely plan in mind, now that he'd had ample time to assess the situation, as well as put his main worry to rest. To his immense relief, 'dogs' turned out to be a sort of long thin sausage, something he -was- familiar with, and his faith in Sarah was restored on that count. Not that he trusted Sarah in general. She was having entirely too much fun, in his opinion. And the rest of the boy's companions were much like Jareth expected: predictable, rebellious children with very little imagination when compared to his Sarah. Much the same he'd found in anyone he'd bothered to look at. He cared little for their petty mortal problems. After all, most problems stemmed from a lack of ideas, as Jareth was learning the hard way. If they had actually learned to use those imaginations of theirs, they'd probably be a lot better off.  
  
Not that that applied to him. His situation was different., he assured himself.  
  
In any case, that still left the problem of how he was going to torment the little knave. Harming him was out of the question, much as Jareth wanted to do so.  
  
Of course, there was no rule he knew of that would prevent him from annoying the hell out of the brat, he reminded himself. He settled down comfortably on his branch and waited for an oppourtunity to present itself. 


	8. Attack

Thanks to all my reviewers! n.n Again, apologies for all the bad language. Anyone else besides me notice that guys swear a lot more when they're drunk? Or maybe that's just the people I know.. *shrug*  
  
Disclaimer thingit: None of the *cool* characters are mine... No, I got stuck owning Alex-tachi and Horney the owl... .()  
  
Oooh, one more thing.... check out the scary J/S chibis I drew the other day:  
  
http://www.ainself.net/space/guest/ChibiSJ.jpg  
  
More thanks goes to Space Elf, who let me borrow space on her site. n.n (I WILL get my own page one of these days, damnit.) Comments and crystal ball jokes are welcome. n.-  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"Is that all there is?" Sarah asked in disbelief as a dozen hot dogs were snatched up by eight pairs of hands and devoured almost immediately. The great outdoors had a way of making a person really hungry, and that one hot dog she'd managed to grab just hadn't cut it.  
  
"Naaah," Alex assured her with a grin, "That was just an appetizer to tide us over until the -real- food's ready! Hope you're a steak person."  
  
"Ooooh..." Sarah smiled, mouth watering in anticipation. "Steak sounds really good right about now..."  
  
"Hey Jason," her neighbour yelled, "Throw on the meat, will ya?"  
  
"Sure thing," Jason nodded, reaching into one of the coolers for a pair of big Ziploc bags with slabs of beef marinating inside. "Baggie number one.." he announced, lifting three big steaks out of the bag and arranging them on the hot grill with a pair of tongs.  
  
"Hey, make mine medium rare, okay? Gonna go check something by the river." Alex grabbed Sarah's arm and pulled her along behind him, everyone but Jason migrating after him.  
  
"Yeah, sure, leave me all alone to slave over a hot grill, making your steaks," Jason joked, "Maybe they'll just be gone when you get back."  
  
"Do it and I'll kick your ass," Alex's retreating voice promised.  
  
"Heh, I can take you on any day," Jason shouted after them before turning his attention to the steaks slowly turning brown in front of him. He poked them with the tongs and waited.  
  
...And waited, and waited. Barbecuing sure dragged out when all your buddies were off messing around without you, he noted. 'Oh well, I did volunteer for it,' he thought to himself as he turned and dug around for the A-1 sauce.  
  
When he turned back to face the grill, the steaks were gone. Jason blinked and shook his head, wondering what was in that beer he had. Sure enough, when he looked again, the grill was still conspicuously empty of the sizzling meat that had been there a moment before.  
  
"Shit, I wasn't serious.." he muttered, checking around the fire pit to see if the wind had somehow managed to knock them onto the ground.  
  
Yeah, right. Like that would happen.  
  
"Hey man, came to check on the grub. You dead of boredom yet?" Alex grinned from behind him, then frowned when he noticed the empty grill. "Where're the steaks?"  
  
"They're... umm..." Jason tapped his fingers against his leg and scratched the back of his head with the other hand. "Hell if I know, they just vanished."  
  
"Steaks just don't get up and walk the fuck away, man." Alex looked unconvinced. "Jesus, I didn't think you were serious. It's not very funny, jackass."  
  
"Alex, dude, I swear I don't know where the hell they went." Alex rolled his eyes and opened his mouth to make a biting remark.  
  
"Hey Alex, come check this out!" Kate shouted from by the river. Alex glanced over his shoulder and then back at Jason.  
  
"Whatever, man, just have them back by the time we wanna eat, or you sure aren't gettin' any." He turned and wandered back through the trees, muttering about assholes with a messed-up sense of humor.  
  
"What the hell?" Jason asked the air confusedly. The air didn't offer any suggestions. "Weird shit.." he muttered as he threw on the other three steaks.  
  
The moment he turned his back on the grill, it happened again. It was strange enough the first time, and by the second, Jason was starting to get pissed off, and a little bit creeped out.  
  
"What the hell is going on!?" He wondered aloud.  
  
Naturally, the others didn't believe him when they wandered back from the river, all looking forward to nice juicy steaks only to discover none available. Jason couldn't really blame them. He wasn't sure he believed him, either, except that the beef was gone and he hadn't done anything with them other than try to cook them.  
  
"Shit, man, I dunno what kind of fucking joke you think this is, but you've got one fucked up sense of humor, asshole." Alex was muttering angrily. Everyone was standing around the fire pit, glaring at Jason.  
  
"Yeah, I mean, fuck, man..." A boy named Chris was saying, "At least buy the goddamned steaks yourself next time if you're gonna pull this shit."  
  
"I don't give a rat's ass who bought the steaks, I'm fucking famished!"  
  
"I told you morons already, it wasn't me, goddamn it!" Jason glared back at them. "I bet it was one of you dickheads. Alright, fess up. Who's lame-ass idea of a practical joke was this, huh?"  
  
"Wasn't any of us, we were all by the river."  
  
"Well, it sure as hell wasn't me!" Jason was getting really angry. Whoever though this was funny was going to get his ass kicked.  
  
Alex glared at him. "I don't care who did it, you were put in charge of them, you lost them, so you... " he pointed at John, the driver, "..and you can both run into town and buy some more." There were various murmurs of agreement as Alex grabbed a beer out of the cooler and sipped it with an air of finality. "Go on, move it, asshole. Hope you brought money, 'cause you're paying."  
  
Jason snarled. "I'm not shelling out that much money when it wasn't my fault in the first place!" Alex squared his jaw stubbornly.  
  
"Whose fault are you saying it is, then?"  
  
"I don't know! One of you assholes obviously thought it'd be a good idea to mess with everyone's heads! Or maybe it was a wild animal or something."  
  
"Jason.." Alex gritted his teeth, "Go... get... the fucking... steak. Now."  
  
Jason glanced around, but the looks on his companions' faces told him he'd get no support from them. Letting out a frustrated growl, he trampled off into the darkening forest and back towards the truck, with John trailing behind him.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Well, like all failed schemes, it had -seemed- like a good idea at the time. It had been a simple enough plan, not that he was capable of anything overly elaborate in his current state. He should have been able to execute it flawlessly.  
  
Things had been going so well. The boy had been furious over the continual disappearances of their meal. Someone had taken the truck back into town to purchase more meat while the rest of them waited, drunk (for the most part), hungry and irritable. Tempers were frayed, and accusations were flying. The little toad had already blown up at Sarah for trying to get him to calm down, and now she was angry as well. With any luck, they would want nothing more to do with each other by the end of the night. Jareth was winning, and he knew it.  
  
He certainly hadn't expected that blasted horned owl to make an appearance.  
  
He'd been all set to swoop in and steal the latest steak off the grill, perhaps drop it in the dirt this time to be especially annoying. The boy's friend had experienced problems with his vehicle on the way back, and since no one trusted anyone else to be left alone with the food, they had all gone and left it alone. He had been so focused on listening for their return that he hadn't noticed the almost inaudible sounds of another predator about.  
  
The other owl dove down out of nowhere, just as he was making off with his latest prize. Jareth dropped the heavy steak with a startled cry and wheeled around rapidly, but he wasn't fast enough. Sharp talons sunk into his wings and he screamed in pain and surprise, struggling to no avail as he felt the horned owl's grip tighten in response.  
  
Desperate to escape, he craned his head around and bit sharply into the other bird's leg, viciously beating his wings at the same time. The horned owl was surprised enough to loosen his hold, and that was all Jareth needed. Talons sliced through flesh and muscle as he tore himself free and dropped like a stone, his now useless wings refusing to respond. One was less damaged than the other, and he managed to spread it enough to slow his plummet a little. Squeezing his eyes shut as the picnic table came rushing up at him, he crashed into the dozen or so empty cans of beer and tumbled gracelessly head over tail, rolling all the way to the other end and off the edge by sheer momentum. There was a heavy 'thunk' as Jareth landed in the half-empty cooler on the ground, the container wobbling enough with the impact to shake the lid into swinging down into place.  
  
In retrospect, perhaps it hadn't been the best plan he had ever come up with, Jareth thought as the walls around him shook. He huddled in half- melted bits of ice and cans of cold beer, shivering and wet, while that monster of an owl nudged and prodded at the box, looking for a way in. The ice and his injuries were taking their toll, and Jareth could literally feel himself going into shock as blood seeped out of his mangled wings. He was afraid to look at them, unwilling to confirm what he already knew about the extent of the damage. At least the chill was numbing the worst of the pain to a dull throbbing ache, although it wouldn't matter in a moment. He was crippled and helpless, and it would only be a matter of time before his assailant found a way in, or was chased off by a bunch of children who wouldn't know how to help him anyway. He gradually realized that he was dying.  
  
By the time he heard voices outside, Jareth was too far gone to care. It really didn't matter if they found him now. He noted dimly that the cooler had stopped shaking, so at least he wouldn't be eaten by that brute that had wounded him.  
  
"..Fucking owl the entire time!?" The snatch of conversation penetrated Jareth's haze as the cooler lid was swung open. "Shoulda shot the goddamned thing and grilled HIM..."  
  
"You believe me now? You guys are all paying me back for buying more fucking beef, I swear to God.."  
  
"Wonder what he was af- ... oh my god..." A voice directly above him said as a hand brushed up against him. The hand jerked away immediately when Jareth managed a hiss of pain at the contact. Apparently he wasn't as sensorially-deprived as he'd thought.  
  
"Guys, there's something alive in here!" The voice announced. A moment later, a beam of bright light was shone in his eyes, and Jareth squeezed them shut. Good gods, couldn't they just let him die in peace?  
  
"Maybe we could grill -him-.." someone suggested.  
  
"John, that's mean!" A female voice scolded.  
  
Jareth's momentary alertness was fading fast, replaced by the same hazy darkness that was slowly enveloping him. Wonderful. The idea of being eaten by these Neanderthals was -so- much more appealing...  
  
He was on the brink of oblivion when he heard a familiar intake of breath. "Oh my god.." Sarah's voice echoed the speaker from earlier as a finger lightly brushed his feathered cheek. The soft contact and the tone of her voice caused a new sort of pain, a bittersweet ache inside of him. Here he was, dying in front of her, and she'd never even know it was him. Being mocked by her friends like some sort of wild animal... he didn't want to go like this... not this way...  
  
A gentle pair of hands lifted him tentatively from the icy water, carefully bundling him in something warm and soft. He could barely feel the pain any more as reality faded around him. 'Sweet Sarah..' he felt a lingering sense of regret as he was swallowed up by darkness.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Wanna find out what happens next? Gotta review! Or I might just decide to let Jareth die... ) *waggles finger and grins* Mwa ha ha ha haaa.... 


	9. Help

Okie, okie... guess y'all have reviewed enough, so here's the next chapterness. n.n Bit short, but oh well. My chapters are getting longer again, huzzah! n.n 3  
  
Disc: I own no one in this chapter. Pootie. =P  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah nearly tripped over yet another tree root, catching herself just in time. She checked the small bundle in her arms to make sure she hadn't jarred it too badly, then sighed and continued on. She had been stumbling along in the dark for a good half an hour, reasoning that it would be a shorter distance to cut through the woods than to take the road. While it made sense geographically, she really only ended up slowing herself down, wading through waist-high tangles of undergrowth and picking her way along the uneven ground. So far, she had gotten lost several times, but fortunately, she knew which direction she needed to go now.  
  
She felt something crawling on her arm and flicked it off irritably. This was -not- her idea of a good time.  
  
Alex hadn't been much help, she thought angrily. Having solved the mystery of the missing meat, they had all gone back to drinking and partying, and had completely ignored her when she had insisted that they couldn't just leave the poor owl to die. Alex had responded by saying that the thing was dead anyway, and it wasn't really worth worrying over. John had told her that he wouldn't even consider driving her home until he finally got his steak, and he wouldn't let anyone else drive his baby. The rest of the group had spent the next ten minutes or so trying to talk her out of going home, until Sarah had finally gotten fed up and just left. Considering how many drinks they were having, she was probably better off walking, anyway.  
  
Sarah muttered something obscene under her breath. Insensitive jerks, the lot of them. Even Kate had agreed that the owl would die no matter what they did for it, although she had been sympathetic, at least. Well, Sarah wasn't going to give up on the poor thing.  
  
She moved a fold of her jacket aside to gaze at the owl's pale face as she walked along. She was almost positive it was the same owl that lived in her neighbourhood, the one she had labeled Jareth. She felt pretty silly now. It was obviously just a normal owl. She may not be an expert in these things, but she was fairly sure that the real Goblin King could never be harmed by something as mundane as another owl. Her heart went out to the poor thing. It sat outside her window so often that she felt responsible for it's safety now, and besides that, it's plight reminded her so much of Merlin's that she doubted she could live with herself if she didn't at least try to help it.  
  
Assuming, of course, that she could get it home in time. She sighed and kept walking.  
  
It was another hour before she finally crept in through the front door, closing it silently behind her and glancing at the clock on the wall. 11:55. Still relatively early. She began to tiptoe up the stairs, cradling her precious bundle against her chest.  
  
"Sarah." Karen's voice behind her made her freeze halfway up the stairs.  
  
'Oh boy, she sounds pissed,' Sarah thought as she turned to face her stepmother. "Yes, Karen?"  
  
Karen was seated in the big stuffed recliner in the family room. She set down the book she had been reading and regarded her husband's child coolly. "Sarah, I'm disappointed in you," she began. Sarah rolled her eyes. "I had really thought that we were starting to get along better. Your father and I need some time to ourselves once in a while, and all we ask is that you watch Toby when we go out somewhere."  
  
"Whatever happened to only asking me to babysit if it didn't interfere with my plans?" Sarah shot back, falling easily into the familiar argument.  
  
"Sarah, I've asked you before to tell me in advance if you're going somewhere so that your father and I know not to make plans. Running off at the last minute so that we had to cancel them was very inconsiderate of you. You didn't even tell us where you were going or who those strange boys were. We were both very worried about you." Karen held up her hand to silence her stepdaughter as Sarah opened her mouth to reply. "Your father and I talked about it, and we think that two weeks' grounding is fair."  
  
"What? Two weeks!?" Sarah's jaw dropped. Karen had never actually grounded her before. This wasn't fair at all!  
  
"We both think that it's an appropriate punishment, Sarah. You can't just run off and inconvenience everyone else," Karen stated firmly.  
  
Sarah groaned in protest. "Fine, fine.. I don't have time for this right now," she announced resignedly, remembering the barn owl wrapped in her jacket. Turning, she climbed the rest of the stairs, heading for the bathroom to see what could be done for it's injuries.  
  
One or two items were sent crashing to the linoleum floor as Sarah swept her arm across the cluttered counter to clear space. Ignoring them, she set her jacket down and carefully unwrapped it to survey the damage.  
  
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart sank. Good grief, the poor creature was a mess. She hadn't really been able to see how badly it was hurt back in the woods, even with the flashlight shining on it. Now, in the well-lit bathroom, she could see the full extent of it's injuries. There was a matching set of deep gashes running across the insides of both wings, blood welling up from the wounds and staining the pristine white feathers a deep red. More smears of blood decorated it's small body, and several pinion feathers were mangled beyond hope of repair. It's breathing was shallow, the rise and fall of it's chest barely visible. The once proud and beautiful bird of prey now appeared incredibly fragile.  
  
"Sarah," Karen's voice came from the hall, and a moment later she appeared in the doorway. "Sarah, I wasn't finished with you." Her eyes fell on the owl and she let out a gasp. "Good heavens, Sarah, what is that filthy animal doing on my nice clean counter!?"  
  
Sarah spun around and fixed her stepmother with a glare so intense that Karen was taken aback. "Don't be so heartless, Karen. I thought you had at least a little bit of compassion. Looks like I was wrong."  
  
"Well, I.." Karen stuttered, recovering a moment later, "It's not that I'm trying to be heartless, Sarah, it's just that that.. wild animal.. could be carrying diseases or parasites or goodness knows what else. You don't know where it's been. And it's a wild animal, it could hurt you without a second thought. It's dangerous."  
  
"Well, what do you want me to do, toss it outside and leave it to die?" Sarah was livid. She'd had just about enough of people telling her to give up.  
  
"Sarah," Karen sighed. "Look at the poor thing. There's no way you can save it."  
  
Sarah's eyes shone with anger and frustration. "I don't care, I'm going to try anyway!" It was finally starting to sink in that she probably -wouldn't- be able to make a difference, but she wasn't about to give up now. She'd already done so much as it was to just give up. "Look, I just want to try and help it, alright? If it makes it through the night, it'll be okay. If it doesn't, then it's only one night and at least I'll have tried. Can you allow me that much, at least?" She looked tired as she wet an old towel under the tap and began to dab purposefully at the owl's wings. There was a long, uncomfortable silence while she waited for her stepmother's response.  
  
"I'll go find a box," Karen relented.  
  
Sarah paused mid-dab and turned, throwing her arms around Karen's neck in a hug. "Thank you."  
  
"Y-you're welcome.." Karen managed to get out, startled by the unexpected display. "Be right back," she muttered before retreating from the bathroom.  
  
Sarah turned back to her task, feeling slightly heartened. "Don't worry," she crooned reassuringly as she cleaned the bird's wounds, "You're going to be just fine. We're going to take good care of you."  
  
With the blood out of the way, she could make out just how deep the cuts were, and her stomach twisted. The layers of muscle were clearly visible, and on the left wing, one gash went clear to the bone. By the looks of it, the poor creature would never be able to use it's wings again, even if it did manage to survive. 'Don't think that way,' she scolded herself as she located the roll of gauze and awkwardly bandaged the owl's wounds. 'Be positive!'  
  
Sarah stood back, unsure of what to do now. It occurred to her that she really didn't know the first thing about rehabilitating a wild animal. She bit her bottom lip and watched the shallow rise and fall of the barn owl's bloodied white chest as she thought about it. It was painfully obvious that she couldn't save it without some help. She would have to call the vet first thing in the morning, as it was too late at night to call now. But that wouldn't help it now, she reminded herself.  
  
'Damnit, think, Sarah!' she took a few deep, calming breaths and mulled over what to do. The bleeding had slowed quite a bit, so that wasn't as much of a priority for the time being. She still wasn't sure whether she should sew it up, but she didn't have the skill anyway and she might do more damage by trying. What else? Well, it had probably gone into shock, she reasoned, and would need to be kept warm. Good, she encouraged herself, at least it was a start.  
  
She managed to locate a hot water bottle from a cabinet beside the sink, just as Karen came back with a large cardboard box and several old, faded sheets to line it with. Sarah filled the bottle and tucked it in between the sheets, then cautiously transferred the injured bird to the box and carried it to her room. She set it down on the floor beside her bed so she could easily check on it. She wouldn't get much sleep tonight.  
  
The owl looked so soft in the glow of the lamplight, and she stroked it's feathers gently with the tip of her finger. "You'll be just fine," she promised, wishing with all her might for it to be true. 


	10. Problem

Oi. I am so not inspired for this story lately. Gomen for the late update. *sigh* Hopefully my muse will come back from wherever she's been hiding lately. Anyway, they say to write what you know. I had a conversation with a barn owl expert which was similar to the one Sarah has with Dr. Trapp. (I won't tell you the expert's name, but he basically told me the same things. Oi. I can see where he's coming from, but the part about not helping me out for a story was irritating u.u;) So just so you know, it's fairly acdurate. n.n() I did do *some* homework on this, at least n.n;  
  
  
  
Disc: Whatever, not mine. *sigh* I do, however, own a Bowie shirt and a barn owl beanie, so that cheers me up some. n.n  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Everything was dark. Tendrils of icy mist swirled around him, doing very little to relieve the blackness that was felt more than seen. There was a complete lack of sound, and when he opened his mouth to confirm it, he heard nothing. Strangely, it wasn't alarming.  
  
He looked down at himself and saw that he was once again in his usual form. Bright crimson stained the sleeves of his cream-colored shirt, and smears of red marred the front. Oddly enough, there was no pain. So, he was either dreaming or dead, he concluded as he took in his surroundings once more.  
  
After a time (something he barely noticed, since the passage of time seemed unimportant in this place), he became aware of the mist in front of him parting, and an oddly familiar woman stood before him. It took him a minute to realize that he knew her. Things he had known a moment ago were fading, and the recognition felt almost like an odd sense of deja vu.  
  
"Who are you?" He asked, mildly surprised to hear his own voice.  
  
"You don't remember me, Jareth?" She looked equally confused and oddly hurt by the question.  
  
"Jareth?" He furrowed his brow, prodding at a memory which obstinately refused to surface. "Is that who I am?"  
  
The girl before him was silent as he puzzled over this new information. He was... wasn't he...? Ah yes, he remembered now. He -was- Jareth. And she was...  
  
"Sarah...?" he tried hopefully.  
  
Her eyes lit up and she nodded. "That's right, Jareth. I'm Sarah."  
  
"I...had forgotten..." Jareth admitted, sounding troubled. Why had he forgotten? What he had failed to even notice a moment ago now bothered him a great deal.  
  
"I won't let you die," Sarah announced suddenly.  
  
"What?" Jareth asked her, now more confused than ever. Yet... the realization came slowly. He -was- dying, wasn't he? That was why he was in this place. Why he was shedding all of his memories of living. He remembered what had happened now. He had been attacked, and he was dying.  
  
"What are you doing here, Sarah?" he asked, perplexed over how she could have followed him here. Unless one of those boys had done something to her as well, he deduced as more pieces fell into place.  
  
"I won't let you die," she repeated, taking a step forward.  
  
"Sarah..." Jareth sighed. He remembered her quite clearly now. "What do you propose to do about it? You cannot prevent the inevitable."  
  
"I won't let you!" Sarah cried out stubbornly.  
  
"There's nothing you can do, Sarah," Jareth argued. "You have to stop clinging to your childhood sooner or later."  
  
"Of all the unlikely phrases to hear from you..." Sarah began.  
  
"Sarah."  
  
"I don't wanna!" Jareth blinked as her arms flew around his neck. "I'm not ready to grow up yet! You can't just leave and take my childhood!"  
  
"It's too late, Sarah," he murmured sadly, both confused and oddly touched by her display. Did she value him that much? "I'm dying."  
  
"And I already told you, I won't let you!" She pulled her arms away and stood back, an odd gleam in her eyes. "I wish for you to live."  
  
Jareth met her expectant gaze tiredly, his mouth twisting into an ironic smile. "Who do you expect to grant you your wish, Sarah?" he reminded her bitterly. "I have no power over you."  
  
For a moment, she looked stricken. "You're not going to die," she insisted, her stubbornness back in full force. "I won't let you."  
  
He shook his head sadly. "We shall see, dear Sarah."  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah, true to her prediction the night before, got very little sleep. The box beside her bed dominated all of her thoughts, or more specifically, it's occupant did. She was so concerned about the owl's state of being that she slept lightly and woke often.  
  
When she did manage to drift off, she was plagued by uneasy dreams, but they were gone the instant she awoke. All she could really remember was that Jareth had been in them, but the actual content of the dream alluded her. She mentally berated herself for thinking of her enemy at a time like this.  
  
To her immense relief, the barn owl was still very much alive when she checked on him. Was it her imagination, or was his breathing better? She smiled and smoothed down his soft feathers with a finger before heading downstairs to grab the phone directory. He was still a long way from fully recovering, and she needed some expert advice.  
  
She dialed the number for the vet's office and waited while it rang. The secretary answered and Sarah was put on hold while someone went to check whether Dr. Trapp was in yet. After a minute of waiting, she was informed that he was just finishing up a routine checkup, and she could either wait or try calling back later. Sarah said she'd wait.  
  
By the time she was taken off hold, Sarah was wishing that she'd chosen to call back. She -really- had to relieve herself.  
  
"Good morning, Dr. Trapp speaking," the voice on the other end announced.  
  
"Um, yes, good morning, Dr. Trapp. It's Sarah Williams calling."  
  
"Oh, good morning, Sarah," the vet replied pleasantly. "And how is Merlin today? Doing well, I hope?"  
  
"Merlin's doing just fine, thank you." Sarah confirmed. Merlin's tail began wagging at the sound of his name, and Sarah smiled at him from the living room.  
  
"Good," Dr. Trapp was saying, "Be sure to bring him in soon so I can check on him, alright?"  
  
"I will," Sarah promised.  
  
"Good to hear. So, Sarah, what can I do for you while I've got a moment?"  
  
"Well, see, I have a question," Sarah began, reminding herself that Dr. Trapp was a busy man. "What do I... that is, what's the best thing to do for an injured barn owl?"  
  
"An injured barn owl?" Dr. Trapp repeated, surprised. "Well, Sarah, that's a difficult question. It all depends on how badly the animal's injured. Generally speaking, the best thing to do would be to turn it in to the nearest raptor rehab center for treatment, but if the bird's wounds are serious, it probably won't live anyway. Any sort of care beyond feeding it could potentially kill the owl if it's hurt badly enough to need it. The shock alone would do it. If that's the case, I'd have to recommend that the owl be euthanized." Dr. Trapp paused. "Why did you want to know? Did you find an owl?"  
  
"Err... n-no..." Sarah lied, "I... I need to know for a... paper I'm writing... for English," she finished lamely.  
  
"Ah, I see." The animal doctor sounded unconvinced.  
  
"Well, a story, actually," Sarah amended, "and I was hoping you could tell me how to rehabilitate an owl so I know what I'm talking about."  
  
A sigh came from the other end of the line. "I'm afraid that I can't really help you, then. Raptor rehabilitation is far too risky for both the bird and the rehabber as it is, without the general public trying to be helpful. If you included any details about rehabbing in a story, you might be subliminally suggesting that anyone can care for an injured owl, and that's just not the case. I'm sorry that I can't help you."  
  
"Alright, thank you for your time," Sarah said, and hung up.  
  
She stood beside the phone for a minute, her hand still on the receiver, as the vet's words sunk in. Euthanize? She wasn't going to take the owl to the animal clinic if they were just going to put him to sleep! She'd kept him alive for this long and she certainly wasn't going to bail out on him now. Animal hospital, indeed! If they wouldn't -try- to help him, then what was the point?  
  
Sarah made an annoyed sound as she turned and headed back up the stairs. She was no closer to knowing how to care for the rescued bird than she had been last night. All she had learned, in fact, was that she couldn't count on Dr. Trapp for help.  
  
She pushed open the bathroom door with a sigh. Looked like she was on her own this time.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Unconsciousness was timeless. Jareth gradually awakened to the realization that he was lying on something warm and soft, and he'd just had a very significant dream. The moment he tried to remember anything of it, the faint images evaporated like morning dew, leaving him with nothing but a nagging feeling that he was missing out on something. He yawned and put it out of his mind.  
  
The pain in his stiff wings had lessened to a dull ache, and he flexed one experimentally. Or tried to, anyway. His efforts were met with a wave of acute pain, and he dizzily waited for it to subside, making a mental note to not try -that- again.  
  
Well, the pain seemed to confirm that he wasn't dead, at any rate. Interesting conclusion, that. Mortals tended to cling to the belief that death meant a reprieve from pain, and although Jareth had never really meditated on that particular subject, he had generally fancied the notion. Why it should concern him at all was a bit of a mystery. He understood that humans liked the idea, mostly on the basis that it gave them comfort when they thought of themselves or a loved one passing away. Jareth, however, hadn't really entertained any thought of dying until recently, and he didn't have any loved ones to comfort himself over. Still, it seemed to him that anyone who actually went through the trouble of dying shouldn't have to bother with physical trivialities such as pain afterwards.  
  
He carefully opened his eyes, blinking as he was met with sunlight. Everything was blurry, and he shut his eyes again as a headache began pounding at the inside of his skull. His current form being strictly nocturnal, bright light was something he tolerated only when his situation made it absolutely necessary, preferring shade and overcast skies. Injured and disoriented as he was, he certainly didn't feel up to dealing with the brightness that greeted him! At least it was warm, he conceded as he turned his head away from the light. Gods, but he had such a headache... a nap seemed like a good idea, and he was more than willing to surrender himself back into the folds of darkness.  
  
The surface underneath him shifted, pushing all thoughts of sleep away. Jareth let out a halfhearted grunt of protest as he felt himself moving. A shadow fell over him, blocking out the dreadfully bright sun.  
  
"Well, good morning, sunshine," a relieved and suspiciously familiar voice intoned softly.  
  
Jareth lifted his head to look up at the speaker, momentarily confused. What was Sarah doing here?  
  
Fuzzy snatches of the previous night's events clumsily pieced themselves together, and he felt a flood of mixed emotions. Relief, gratitude, both of which were quickly drowned out by a growing sense of shame and embarrassment. Him, the once mighty Goblin King, weak and helpless as a newborn babe, while the object of his...what, affection? obsession? It didn't really matter... was nursing him back to health like an invalid. The thought did not sit well with him. He refused to admit that an invalid was exactly what he was.  
  
His pride reared up and he hissed at her warningly, the knowledge of how close he had come to dying forgotten. He wasn't sick, he was just scratched up a little! Nothing he wouldn't heal from in a few days' time. He certainly didn't need coddling from the one person he was hellbent on extracting vengeance upon. He struggled to his feet and backed away, ignoring the blinding pain that came with jostling his abused wings. He wasn't about to meekly submit to her ministrations.  
  
Sarah bit her lip as she viewed the owl's reaction. What had she really expected? That he would gladly tolerate her, perhaps feel grateful? This -was- a wild animal, after all. Sitting outside her window all the time did not make him ready and willing to throw himself into her arms. He was more likely to claw them off.  
  
Still, she -did- need to check his injuries. If he got an infection now, all of her efforts would be for nothing.  
  
She eyed the sharp beak and talons warily. The bird had quite clearly assumed a fight-or-flight stance, even with his wings trailing uselessly on the floor of the box. He -would- try to attack her if she came too close. She needed some sort of protection.  
  
"Wait here," she murmured soothingly, backing out of Jareth's line of sight. He stopped hissing and craned his neck to see over the edge of his confinement. Now what was that girl up to?  
  
She came back a moment later, armed with a pair of work gloves that smelled faintly of engine oil, plus an old, faded towel. Jareth would have rolled his eyes if they hadn't been fixed inside his skull. What was it with women and towels? he wondered as he reassumed his threat stance.  
  
"Shhh... I'm not going to hurt you," Sarah crooned as she approached, gloves on and towel outstretched. That was reassuring, Jareth thought dryly as the towel went over him.  
  
"Easy, Jareth..." she soothed as he kicked and squirmed. Struggling proved to be a bad idea. The onset of agony that resulted was enough to make Jareth wish that he really -had- died. Surely death would be an improvement over -this-! He lay still, hoping for the pain to subside quickly.  
  
"As stubborn as always, I see," Sarah remarked conversationally. She wasn't really sure why she was still drawing parallels between her foe and this owl. Habit, she supposed, the same reason she continued to call him Jareth. Deep down, the dreamer side of her had hoped that it had been him, and she wasn't quite willing to give it up just yet.  
  
The owl listlessly submitted as she delicately maneuvered first one wing and then the other to check his injuries. It was awkward business, with him lying in her lap and one gloved hand holding him securely by the feet, leaving the other to unwrap and change bandages. Sarah still had no idea what she was doing, and her talk with the vet hadn't provided any enlightenment. She kept dropping things and belatedly realized that this would have been simpler with another set of hands to help her. It took her forever by herself, but she finally got it done.  
  
"There you are, Jareth," she announced, carefully righting him and setting him back in his box. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"  
  
Oh, like she had any idea. Jareth gave a feeble snap of his beak as she turned away, the pain frustratingly overwhelming. He'd just learned the hard way that his wings wouldn't respond when he'd tried repeatedly to knock Sarah's hand away. Not even the slightest twitch from the abused limbs to reward his efforts, only more pain.  
  
He barely noticed her departure as he mulled over his situation. Things were definitely -not- in his favor. He was weak and crippled. He was terribly hungry, and in this state, his chances of catching anything were less than nothing. Assuming that horned owl didn't get him first.  
  
He closed his eyes in defeat. It really hurt to admit it, but maybe... Jareth cringed... maybe he did need help after all. 


	11. Mistake

Okie, here's another chapter! *wavies to FlyAway* Happy now? n.- Thanks to Corrie, my wonderful creative consultant, and all my happy readers. n.n  
  
Disc: *sigh* Do we really need to go through this again? Alex is mine, no one else in this chapter is. *wanders off to cry*  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"Hungry, Jareth?" Sarah came up from the evening's dinner with a plate of something in her hands. Jareth looked up from where he had been blissfully catching up on his sleep, craning his neck to see over the edge of the box without actually getting up. What had she brought him? He was -definitely- hungry.  
  
"Look what I saved just for you," she exclaimed, holding up a thick slice of roast beef. Jareth eyed it disdainfully. Did she honestly expect him to eat -that-? He was fairly certain that his stomach wasn't designed to handle cow, roasted or not.  
  
Sarah noticed him looking askance at her offering and sighed. "Yeah, I know, it's not what you're used to, but I don't want you to starve and it was the best I could do on short notice." She tore off a piece and held it out to him on the end of a pair of salad tongs. "C'mon, try it at least?"  
  
Jareth eyed the morsel and weighed his options. Trying a -little- wouldn't hurt, especially if the alternative was to go hungry. He was famished enough as it was to take the risk, and he doubted that it would kill him, in any case. The fact that it wasn't a natural part of his diet in this form didn't necessarily mean that it was unhealthy.  
  
Sarah nearly lost her loose grip on the tongs as the owl ripped the meat away and wolfed it down ravenously. She thought for a moment that he might choke on it at the rate it disappeared down his gullet.  
  
"Whoa, slow down there!" She giggled as he leaned forward, fixing her with a look which clearly said 'Well? Where's the rest, hmmm?'  
  
Jareth snatched up the next chunk of meat and swallowed gleefully. Oh, but it was -so- GOOD... it seemed like forever since the last time he'd had roast, and it was every bit as juicy and mouth-wateringly tender as he remembered it to be. He was torn between savouring the taste and satisfying the terrible hunger in his belly. Sadly, the hunger won out, and he had to settle for whatever snatches of flavour he caught on the way down.  
  
"Sorry, there's no more," Sarah held up the empty plate, laughing when the owl glared at her accusingly, as if to say 'What do you MEAN, there's no more!?' "You ate it all!" She said in her defense, still giggling.  
  
Jareth sat back, clearly unsatisfied. That slip of meat hadn't been nearly enough to sate his hunger. Of course, she couldn't know that. If only he could hunt for himself. It wasn't fair!  
  
He paused and blinked. And now he was thinking like the girl as well? It had to be something in the food. That would certainly explain a lot, he thought dryly.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah rolled her eyes and growled under her breath. She was trying her best to ignore the shouting from the back yard, but it wasn't working. It wouldn't be as bad if she could get up and close the window, but that would give her away, so instead she sat and buried her nose in a book, hoping that Alex would give up eventually.  
  
"C'mon, Sarah! I know you're up there, you never leave your window open unless you're in there." Damn, he knew her too well. "Come on, would you just talk to me?" A sigh from below. "Please, Sar-bear?"  
  
Sarah raised an eyebrow at the childhood nickname. Alex hadn't called her 'Sar-bear' since she was 8 years old. Sighing, she got up and went to the window.  
  
"What do you want?" She put more venom into her standard query than she meant to as she looked down into her dark back yard.  
  
"Just wanted to talk, Sar. Kinda apologize for being such a dick last night."  
  
"So apologize." Sarah sounded impatient.  
  
Alex sighed. "Look, would you come out here and talk? Don't wanna wake up all the neighbours."  
  
"That certainly didn't bother you a minute ago," Sarah remarked. He put on a pouty face, and after a moment she relented. "Fine, hang on, I'll be down in just a minute."  
  
He was waiting beside the back porch when she finally emerged. At least he had the sense to not point out how she'd taken much longer than the promised minute.  
  
"So talk." Sarah took a seat on the porch steps, and Alex sat down beside her. There was a long silence while he lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.  
  
"So. How's the bird?" He asked conversationally.  
  
"The owl is fine," she answered coolly, putting emphasis on the word 'owl'.  
  
"Wow, lucky bastard actually made it... huh." He'd obviously expected a different answer. "Look," he continued after a brief pause, "I really am sorry about last night. Me and the guys, well... I guess we were out of line. I just didn't want you stressing over some little animal that was probably gonna die anyway."  
  
"And you were wrong," Sarah stated.  
  
"Shit, Sar." He ran his fingers through his scraggly hair. "I'm tryin' to apologize here."  
  
"So go ahead," Sarah snapped. "Part of apologizing is admitting when you're wrong."  
  
"Christ, Sarah, I was sur-" he began, but the look on Sarah's face stopped him mid-sentence. "Okay, okay..." he conceded, raising his hands defensively, "I'll admit that I was wrong about the owl."  
  
"Thank you," Sarah said exasperatedly, and started to get up.  
  
"Hey, just a second, I wasn't finished," Alex protested. He grabbed Sarah by the wrist and pulled her back down. "I wanted to say I'm sorry for spazzing out on you, too. It wasn't your fault and you didn't deserve it. We were all really angry, and I really didn't mean to take it out on you. So I'm sorry about that, too. Just don't be angry anymore, okay?"  
  
"Why, Alex..." Sarah was speechless. She gave him a great big smile. "That was one of the nicest apologies I've ever gotten."  
  
"Yeah, well..." Alex looked away, embarrassed. "I figured you deserved a good one after you left all upset last night. We didn't mean to piss you off or anything."  
  
"Yeah," Sarah agreed amiably, "I guess we all kinda lost it."  
  
"So we friends?"  
  
Sarah considered for a moment. Alex really hadn't changed that much, she guessed. He earned points right away for his willingness to apologize without any prodding, which was more than she could say for a lot of people. He couldn't be all that bad, then, so she should probably give him another chance.  
  
"Friends," she agreed.  
  
"Cool." He gave her a quick hug to seal the deal. Sarah was caught off- guard, and she blushed and pulled away.  
  
"So, um, I guess I'd better get inside before Karen finds me out here," Sarah suggested, before the awkward moment could drag itself out.  
  
"Yeah, you'd better do that." Alex flicked the cigarette butt out onto the lawn and stood up. "See you around, hey?"  
  
"Sure. Night Alex."  
  
"Later," he called as he ambled back over to his own yard.  
  
Sarah watched him go and shook her head. She never would have expected Alex to apologize for harsh words said while drunk. It hadn't really seemed like something he would do, but she'd judged him wrong, it seemed. People could really surprise you sometimes.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
While Jareth had enjoyed the food Sarah had brought him, his stomach was not inclined to agree. As it happened, he spent a miserable evening feeling as if his innards were tying themselves into knots, and his mood was not improved by the brat's appearance under Sarah's window. He could hear every single word as the boy pleaded for Sarah's forgiveness like a besotted fool. The little snot was horning in on Jareth's territory yet again, and the fact that he could do nothing to prevent it irritated him to no end. Overall, he was not enjoying himself, and it wasn't until around midnight that it finally ended with him being violently ill. Sarah was still awake reading, and she rushed over immediately. Jareth felt utterly humiliated.  
  
"Oh, no..." Sarah sighed. "I guess the beef didn't work out for you, huh? Poor thing..."  
  
Poor thing, indeed. It wouldn't be half so bad if she wasn't there hovering over him like a mother hen. Being ill was something he could manage. Being ill in front of his Sarah was too embarrassing for words. In fact, if the girl wasn't around at all, he wouldn't have gotten into this mess in the first place. He would still be in the Underground, ruling over his hordes of goblins. They were smelly, stupid creatures, but they were loyal (for the most part), and they were his. This whole ugly situation of being helpless and submissive didn't suit him at all.  
  
"I guess we'll have to try something else," Sarah was saying. "You sure are a picky eater." She wrinkled her nose at the mess he'd made on the floor of the box. "Guess we'd better get that cleaned up. Wait here, I'll be right back.."  
  
She said that as if he could leave at any time, Jareth noted sourly. Then again, she seemed to know it was him, so it was a fairly good assumption on her part. If only circumstances were what they should be. He would be back home in an eye blink.  
  
Home. Jareth realized he hadn't really thought about home in quite a while, so preoccupied was he with self-pity and plans of revenge. He wondered how his subjects were faring without him. His castle was probably in a shambles by now. It couldn't be helped. He would have quite the time setting it to rights when he got back. If he got back.  
  
Another thought occured to him and he shivered involuntarily. What if there was no home for him to go back to? His realm had nearly ceased to exist before, and that had been with him there to try and prevent it from fading into nothing. He had come so very close to failing... Sarah had intervened just in time. What would happen now, with the Labyrinth's ruler trapped Aboveground? In stripping him of his powers, Sarah had unwittingly accepted the responsibility of keeping his kingdom alive. Now the fate of his realm rested solely upon her unknowing shoulders. If she decided that she had outgrown it, there would be nothing he could do to regain what would be lost. What was done, was done. And he didn't like that idea at all.  
  
He firmly pushed such thoughts out of his mind. It wouldn't do to dwell on what-ifs, especially when he was in no state to do anything about them.  
  
Now Sarah, on the other hand... there was a problem that concerned him directly. That girl was puzzling, to say the least. She continually addressed him by name, even dropped occasional hints that she knew of his identity, and yet the manner in which she treated him was contrary to how he would have expected her to act towards a hated foe. Sarah was capable of being kind, true, but not to him. Never to him. She'd damned them to be enemies with her own words, and far be it for her to go back on that. He would forever be the cold, prideful, heartless villain in her eyes; it mattered little what he did to convince her otherwise. She was simply -not- that forgiving.  
  
So what, then? Was this her own unique brand of revenge? The irony was not lost on Jareth. All of his brooding, scheming, rejecting idea after idea in an attempt to find a suitable punishment for the girl, and she'd beaten him to it. Beaten him at his own game yet again. Was she laughing at him even now? Finding amusement in holding him here at her mercy?  
  
He was in a dark mood indeed by the time Sarah returned with fresh towels and a new hot water bottle. She nearly dropped her armload at his unexpected violent hiss.  
  
"Easy, now..." she murmured placatingly, "it's okay, Jareth, it's just me..."  
  
Jareth snapped his beak viciously. He would not sit by and let her laugh at him. His pride would not allow it.  
  
"Shhh," she soothed, depositing her bundle on the bed and snatching a towel from the top of the pile before inching forward cautiously. This whole towel thing was growing decidedly repetitive, Jareth noted with more than a little annoyance. He'd avoid it this time, even if he had to attack her to get his point across.  
  
Sarah paused mid-step. Something in the owl's stance warned her that he wasn't in the mood to tolerate her. He was probably upset over how the meat she had given him had made him sick. At this rate, he would never trust her.  
  
"It's okay... easy..."she whispered, "Don't you remember me, Jareth?" She inched closer.  
  
Jareth paused mid-hiss as a sense of deja vu sank in. He had the oddest feeling that she'd said those words to him before, yet he could not bring to mind when she'd done it. He thought that he had clearly remembered every single encounter they had had, and she'd never uttered such a line, at least not to his recollection.  
  
The towel was over him the next instant, and he shrieked indignantly. Damn it to hell, he'd gotten distracted, and now he was caught again. He remembered in time to not attempt to squirm loose, striking blindly with his talons instead. He heard her sharp intake of breath and he was dropped onto the floor, shaking the towel loose and scrambling under the bed.  
  
He genuinely expected to face her wrath, to have her get angry at him and lash out. When he heard nothing, he poked his head out from under the edge of the comforter to see what was happening.  
  
Sarah was still standing beside the box, the towel lying in a faded yellow heap at her feet. She was staring at her arm, where a long, deep slash ran from midway up her forearm to the inside of her wrist. She seemed to be in a sort of shock, entranced by the blood that was seeping from the shallow end of the cut and welling quickly from the deeper end. Her face had gone pale, although that was probably from the shock as well.  
  
Jareth panicked. He hadn't meant to actually cut her! He hadn't been able to see, had assumed his attack would miss! He'd only meant it as a warning, he would never actually physically harm his Sarah! The guilt slammed into him as he stood there, at a loss. What had he done!?  
  
He sank to the floor as Sarah lurched from the room, calling for her father and stepmother. There was the sound of Karen demanding that she keep her voice down, she'd wake Toby, followed by a startled gasp and Sarah's father demanding to know what had happened. Karen was muttering angrily about how she'd told Sarah that taking in a wild animal was a bad idea, and that they'd better get her to the hospital right away in case it was carrying diseases or something.  
  
Jareth listened as they gathered a few things and left to rush Sarah to emergency, feeling very, very small. He'd never shown violence towards a woman before, and now he'd endangered his Sarah with his carelessness. His sweet, precious Sarah. All thoughts of vengeance were forgotten as he sat in a daze, praying to whoever might be listening that she was alright. For his kingdom's sake, and for his own. 


	12. Doghouse

Here y'all go, chapter 12. n.n If you don't get the title, then tough cookies. *iggles* Arrrgh... u.u FFN wouldn't let me log on earlier, so I'm kinda mad at it right now. -.o Anyway... anyone who didn't see a lot of this coming needs to pick up on foreshadowing better. n.- j/k, love ya, mwah! *blows a kiss* Anyway, special thanks to Corrie, as always, and everyone else who reads and reviews, love you all! 3 3  
  
Disc: Oh, please... just read the ones in the previous chapters, for crying out loud. n.n()  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah was quiet on the way home from the hospital. She sat in the back seat with her hands resting on her lap and watched listlessly as the street lamps moved past. For a while, the only sounds inside the vehicle were of Toby stirring in his car seat before settling back down to be lulled to sleep by the ride again.  
  
"Sarah," Karen broke the silence. "I want you to get rid of that owl."  
  
Sarah didn't look away from the window and gave no sign that she'd even heard her stepmother.  
  
"Sarah," Karen repeated impatiently.  
  
"Leave me alone." Sarah murmured.  
  
"Sarah, you can't keep it. What if it attacks you again? Or one of us, or Toby? It's a dangerous animal, not a pet!" Karen turned to face her stepdaughter, lips pressed into an thin, angry line. "This family is more important than some bird you rescued on a whim!"  
  
Sarah pulled her eyes away from the window and looked at her stepmother with dull, tired eyes. "I don't want to talk about this right now," she stated in an empty voice. "Just leave me alone."  
  
She turned away and resumed watching the passing scenery. Karen opened her mouth to press the issue further, but her husband's hand on her arm stopped her. Robert shook his head, his eyes never leaving the road, and Karen fell silent. It wasn't often that her husband put his foot down, but when he did, he refused to be talked out of it. No one spoke for the rest of the ride home.  
  
Jareth stirred from a half-dreaming state at the sound of the car pulling into the driveway. He sat up quickly, bumping his head on the underside of the box spring in the process, but he barely noticed. The few hours he'd spent waiting had been torture, and not just because of the long separation from where his powers were. He was numb with worry over Sarah. His mind had relentlessly wandered over all the possibilities, dwelling on the worst- case scenarios, and he was both anxious to dismiss them and terrified to learn that the situation may be just as bad as he was letting himself believe. He waited impatiently for Sarah to come in and confirm or deny his worst fears.  
  
She never came.  
  
He listened as her parents settled the babe down and retired for the evening, and still she had not arrived. He watched her bedroom door for the girl to make her appearance, his fears growing with each passing minute. Where was she? He had thought that he'd heard her downstairs when they'd first returned, but he may have been mistaken.  
  
After a half hour had passed and there was still no sign of her, Jareth decided to investigate. Sarah had left her door open a few inches when she'd left earlier, and he hopped out from under the bed and pulled it open with his beak so that he could squeeze through. The door swung inwards on it's well-oiled hinges, casting a beam of light across the darkened hallway. Jareth hoped no one woke up as he walked through the doorway and peered about. Spotting the staircase, he made his way towards it. It seemed to be a lot farther away than it was, and his wings were aching badly, but he had to know where Sarah was. Everything depended on it.  
  
He was pondering the best way to descend the staircase when he caught the sounds of movement in the master bedroom. Deciding that he would not be able to get to the lower level fast enough to avoid being seen, Jareth backtracked and ducked through the nearest open door.  
  
A moment later, the girl's stepmother emerged into the hallway. "Sarah?" she called softly. Jareth heard her close the girl's bedroom door and head towards the washroom where he was hiding. He slid behind the big plastic wastebasket in the corner, hoping the woman was only planning on using the facilities and not looking for him.  
  
Karen flipped on the light and fished around in the medicine cabinet. The first bottle of headache pills she found had only one capsule left, and she grabbed a fresh bottle with a scowl and tore the seal off. Downing two pills with a glass of water, she turned to throw the empty bottle and crumpled plastic in the garbage. Her eyes fell on the owl behind it and she let out a startled yelp.  
  
"Ooooh, you little rat!" she cried. "Robert, help!" She threw the empty aspirin bottle at Jareth, then grabbed the wastebasket and slammed it down on top of him, garbage and all. Jareth let out an angry shriek as his left wing was bashed painfully, while used Q-tips and a band aid wrapper rained down on him. He shook a crumpled tissue off of his back and hissed, prodding at his dark prison. The woman was still calling for her husband, and a moment later he answered, joining his wife in the washroom.  
  
"It was just waiting in here, Robert," the woman was explaining to her sleepy husband with a note of hysteria in her voice. "I was afraid it was going to attack me or something..." She paused for a moment to calm down. "It can't just wander around the house!"  
  
"Yeah," Robert agreed around a yawn.  
  
"What are we going to do about it, Robert? I really don't like having it in the house at all," she lamented.  
  
"We have that carry case from when Merlin was a pup, it's in the garage."  
  
"Alright, we'll put it in that," Karen agreed reluctantly. "I'd still prefer it if Sarah would just agree to let us get rid of it. That girl lives too much in fairy tales to have any sense at all!"  
  
He really didn't like Sarah's stepmother, Jareth decided. The woman's imagination was dead. It was a wonder that Sarah could tolerate her at all. The girl's father wasn't much better, either, with his passive approach to raising his daughter, constantly letting his wife make all the decisions. Jareth was surprised that Sarah hadn't wished herself away in lieu of the child.  
  
Well, in a way, she had asked, but she hadn't really -wished- herself away, so by Underground law, it didn't count.  
  
The wastebasket was lifted just enough to allow a sheet of stiff cardboard to be shoved underneath, which Jareth had to step onto quickly to avoid barking his toes. He was lifted and carried downstairs, hissing and complaining the entire way, until he was dumped unceremoniously into a tall plastic box with little round holes in it to let in the air. A metal cage door slammed into place above him, and he barely had time to get his bearings before the box was flipped over to rest sideways on the floor. Two sets of legs shuffled out of the room, leaving him alone in what he presumed to be the kitchen, judging by what he could see through the bars. The girl's dog was lying on a blanket on the other end of the room, peering at him curiously. Jareth hissed and turned to face the other way. It looked like he'd get no answers tonight.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The next morning dawned bright and clear, shining in through the window to highlight the sleeping girl on the living room couch. Sarah stirred and squeezed her eyes shut, rolling over to face the back of the gaudy flower print sofa. This pinned her injured arm underneath her, rudely snatching away the last vestiges of sleep. Sarah sat up with a wince, now fully awake. Cradling her sore arm, she slowly got up and made her way towards the kitchen for a drink.  
  
Jareth had only just dozed off, but he started awake at the sound of approaching footsteps. There were subtle differences between the amount of noise each person made when they walked, which Jareth's keen owl hearing picked up on easily. The man's footsteps were heavier, and the floorboards creaked more where he walked. The woman carried herself with a sort of no- nonsense briskness that shone through even when she was tired. The babe could barely walk, and anyway, Jareth could hear him and his mother upstairs. That left only one other likelihood.  
  
Jareth had been pointedly ignoring anyone who came into the kitchen thus far, but now he turned his head to look out through the bars. Sure enough, there was his Sarah, wandering in through the entranceway and heading over to the refrigerator.  
  
'Sarah!' Jareth jumped to his feet and moved to the door of his prison to peer at the girl's bandaged arm intently. From the way she was gingerly supporting it with her other hand, it was causing her quite a bit of pain. She released it to yank the refrigerator door open and pull out a pitcher of what appeared to be orange juice. She retrieved a glass from a nearby cabinet and poured herself some of the beverage before replacing the pitcher in the fridge and pushing the door closed with her hip. She had used both hands, Jareth noted with some relief, so at least her injured arm was still functional. Although it was uncomfortable, if the grimace on her face was any indication.  
  
"Hey, Merlin," she greeted softly. Merlin lifted his head and wagged his scraggly tail happily, licking her outstretched hand. Sarah squatted down to scratch behind her dog's ears with her good hand, sipping her drink with the other.  
  
Jareth nudged the bars with his forehead and keened softly. Sarah started with a sharp gasp, the drink falling from her hand to spill out across the kitchen floor. She was crouched low enough so that the glass rolled harmlessly instead of shattering, but Sarah wasn't paying enough attention to feel relieved. Her focus was entirely on the caged predator across the kitchen, staring out at her with wide, unblinking eyes. Her injured arm flew to her chest and she clutched at it protectively. He did -not- look happy to be there. She realized she was shaking and made a conscious effort to stop. God...  
  
Jareth was stunned. His Sarah, afraid of him? Of all the hypothetical situations he'd thought of, this particular one had somehow failed to occur to him. It was true that he'd wanted her to fear him, but not like this. Had he really even wanted it at all? He felt a stab of regret as she found her mobility and fled the kitchen. This sort of damage would be difficult to repair, indeed.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Karen had not been happy about the mess all over her clean tile floor. Sarah had to mop it up, a task she carried out with downcast eyes and the greatest of reluctance. Afterwards, Karen pulled her aside.  
  
"Sarah, why don't you just get rid of it?" She asked her stepdaughter. Sarah shrugged and shook her head. "You need to decide soon," Karen continued. "I don't like having that thing in my kitchen. It's unnerving."  
  
Sarah could understand that. After last night, she felt more than a little uneasy around the owl. In fact, she felt afraid. He had seemed so... scared and helpless before. Well, scared he still was, helpless he was not. He had no way of taking care of himself, but that didn't make him any less dangerous. She had been stupid to think otherwise. He was not the cute, cuddly creature she had deluded herself into thinking he was. She knew better now.  
  
But if she turned him over to Dr. Trapp, he'd be destroyed. And she couldn't just let him go in his condition. He had no way of surviving on his own; he'd die for sure.  
  
Sarah sighed. She didn't want to take care of him anymore. He was too wild, too dangerous. He didn't understand that she was only trying to help him. He would probably attack her again, especially now that he'd been caged. He would be more irritable as a result of his confinement, and more inclined to lash out. But what choice did she really have? If she didn't help him, he would die.  
  
"I know it's unnerving..." Sarah sighed. "I... I need to think about it, Karen." She turned away and slowly headed upstairs for a shower.  
  
"Don't think about it for too long, or we may have to decide for you," Karen called after her. Sarah ignored her and retreated into the bathroom, locking the door behind her.  
  
She mulled over it as she stood in the shower, absently lathering shampoo into her hair. Was Karen right when she said that Sarah was too lost in fantasies and storybooks to know how to deal with real life? She had certainly managed to handle this whole owl thing badly, all because she had been so wrapped up in the idea that it was a fairytale figure to exercise the proper caution. A character from a book! It was so stupid... she felt tears forming in her eyes and wiped them away with the heel of her palm. It was all real, though, wasn't it? She wasn't quite sure anymore.  
  
She finished her shower and headed back to her room to get dressed. Her eyes fell on the Goblin King figure on her desk as she sat brushing her hair out. Setting her brush down, she picked up the tiny replica and studied it. It has always held so much magic for her before. Now, as she looked at it, it was just cloth and plastic.  
  
Sarah bit her lip and lowered the statuette into her lap, looking into the mirror. She needed comfirmation. It had to be real. It -was- real. She could prove it to herself with three simple words. She took a deep breath.  
  
"I need you, Hoggle," she said shakily, calling on the dwarf.  
  
Nothing. Nothing but her own teary-eyed reflection staring back at her. She swallowed down the lump in her throat and tried again. Nothing still.  
  
"Sarah?" Robert poked his head in to check on his daughter. "Who are you talking to?"  
  
"No one.." Sarah whispered shakily, letting the tears fall freely. She turned away from her father, away from the mirror and covered her eyes with one hand. She wasn't talking to anyone at all. 


	13. Breakthrough

Okie, this chapter's odd. n.n Contains more dreamy goodness, some animal cruelty ( n.n;; ) and a strange ending. But that's okay! Although I really feel like I'm not writing J in character sometimes, because it's really hard to think of him as powerless and dependant n.n() Does anyone else think so? I need feedback, people! =3  
  
Disc: Me no own His Royal Fluffmullet. Me no own Miss Drama-queen. Me no own Miss Drama-queen's bitchy parents or her walking mop-dog. Or Candy- striped crying machine. Me no own Royal Fluffmullet's overgrown rat maze or any of the strange critters living there. Me own everyone else. Me miss anyone? n.-  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The cage he was in wasn't comfortable in the least. The floor was cold, hard plastic. The space was far too cramped and tiny to stay in for longer than a few minutes, never mind the few days he'd been in here. The corner of the kitchen he was situated in was uncomfortably warm during the day, and boring besides. It didn't help that the woman had turned the carry- case to face against the wall so that she wouldn't have to look at him. Jareth was getting tired of peeking through holes. Perhaps the greatest and by far the most demeaning form of negligence of all, however, was the fact that no one was willing to clean up the mess that was accumulating in the inadequate space wherin he was confined. Jareth had set a corner aside for that particular unpleasantry, wishing for the hundredth time that he had retained enough of his magic to dispense with that, at least. He ignored that area for the most part, but it offended his cultured senses and his pride. He was very quickly running out of patience.  
  
Feeding was another issue altogether. Karen and Robert gave him food, at Sarah's insistence, which ranged from scraps of meat to the handful of worms someone had given him the day before. That one still irked him. He wasn't a bloody robin. Thankfully, his digestion had stopped being so overly sensitive and he was able to stomach it, at least. It wasn't nearly enough, however, and it was clear that the stepmother especially was beginning to tire of the chore.  
  
And Sarah... for all of her determination to have him looked after (if one could call it that), she herself refused to go near him. She would come into the kitchen often to spend time with her dog, casting Jareth wary glances every now and then. It hurt, and what was worse was that he could sense that his powers were starting to fade in her care. She just wasn't happy, and it was beginning to seep away.  
  
Damn it all. Hurting Sarah was proving to be the worst mistake he could have possibly made.  
  
Jareth hooked his beak onto the bars, feeling helpless. It was all so... mundane, so bloody frustrating. He was tired of doing nothing! What he needed was a way out, and quickly. The cage seemed to be getting smaller and smaller every day.  
  
Sarah came in and filled a pitcher with water from the sink. She seemed so much more dispassionate these days. The bandages were off and her arm was healing quickly, although it would leave an ugly scar. She, however, seemed to care less and less.  
  
"Hey, boy," she said to Merlin, sparing him a pat on the head. She grabbed a knife from a drawer and took a lemon out of the fridge, setting it down onto the counter to cut it into slices.  
  
Jareth rustled his wings a bit. He had started to regain some use of them, and although they were nowhere near flight-able yet, he could at least move them a little now. Sarah paused mid-slice to glance over at him and he keened piteously.  
  
"What? Do you want out of there, Jareth? Too bad, you're staying right where you are." She brought the knife down again, slicing through the lemon viciously. Jareth winced. Sarah dumped the slices into the water jug and added some ice from the freezer, then carried the concoction out of the kitchen to where Karen and her father were. She spared him a glance on the way out.  
  
Damn. What to do? She obviously wasn't ready to forgive him yet. He looked away with a frustrated sigh. Perhaps she expected him to do something first. Well, that was certainly out of the question. He could do little but sit here and rot.  
  
Jareth leaned over and tried the bars again. The mechanism for opening the door was simple enough, just a spring-loaded bolt that slid into the frame. If it weren't for the fact that the door was always pushed up against the wall, he could have escaped by now.  
  
He sighed. Escape and do what, exactly? He'd just get thrown right back in again, unless his standing with Sarah changed. Leaving wasn't a viable option if he wanted to survive for very long, and aside from that, he had nowhere else to go.  
  
He glanced up as Sarah and her stepmother re-entered the kitchen. The older woman put some glasses down and turned to face Sarah.  
  
"Sarah, we need to talk," Karen insisted. "You have to decide what to do with that animal."  
  
Sarah's irritation flared up. In spite of what the owl had done, she still wanted to help him. And as long as he stayed in that cage, her need to defy Karen won out over her fear.  
  
"Why do we have to do anything with him?" She argued. "It's not like he can get out or anything."  
  
"Sarah, he smells. And I don't like having that thing in my kitchen!" Karen folded her arms across her chest.  
  
"He only smells because you don't clean up after him," Her stepdaughter snapped. "Besides, if we take him to the vet, they'll have him put down."  
  
"Well, maybe it's for the best if they do. They are professionals and they'd know what's best for it," her stepmother reasoned primly.  
  
"Oh, so killing him is what's best for him? Maybe I should maul both my arms and see if you have me put to sleep," Sarah spat. How on earth could her stepmother be so cruel?  
  
"At the rate you're going, you won't need to," Karen observed. "That bird will do it for you."  
  
Sarah faltered. "...He was just scared," she mumbled after a moment. "He doesn't realize that we're trying to help him."  
  
"Which is exactly why you need to turn him over to the vet, Sarah. Let the professionals deal with him."  
  
"They'll put him to sleep!" Sarah repeated with righteous indignation. "You're not even listening to me!"  
  
"Then maybe he deserves to die!" Karen shot back. Sarah froze in shocked amazement.  
  
"I can't believe you just said that," she said coldly. "I'm not turning him over to a vet, and you'd better not, either, or I won't ever forgive you." With that, she stormed out of the kitchen and through the back door.  
  
Karen sighed and glared at the carrying case in the corner , then turned and left the room as well, muttering under her breath. Jareth snapped his beak at her. Good riddance.  
  
What Sarah had said gave him pause for thought. Did the professional healers in this world really kill off their patients like that, without a second thought? He could see it happening if the creature was beyond hope, but... he wasn't beyond hope, was he? He carefully, slowly flexed his wings. The pain was tolerable now, although just barely, and he -could- move them. He -was- improving. Jareth scowled. That damned stepmother was bound and determined to be rid of him, wasn't she? He was little more than a burden in her eyes.  
  
The Goblin King sighed. He would have to find a way out of this soon. He could tell that that woman would not honor Sarah's request for very much longer.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah stood on a familiar red hill, overlooking the great stone edifice spread out before her. She very nearly panicked at first. What was she doing back here? She wouldn't have to go through it again, would she? What was at stake this time? Was it her brother? Or something worse?  
  
She calmed down when she realized that she hadn't made any wishes. There were no arrogant blond Goblin Kings taunting her, telling her she had thirteen hours with which to make it through. In fact, there was no one.  
  
Sarah looked around, puzzled. She would have expected to see someone, at least. Like Hoggle, wandering around outside the gates and spraying fairies. Or a few crows, or something. Now that she had stopped to notice, the Labyrinth seemed a lot more run down. Almost like it had been abandoned altogether.  
  
"Hello?" she called out hopefully. Her voice echoed eerily, bouncing back at her from across the suddenly barren landscape. The Labyrinth had vanished into thin air. Sand whipped around the arid desert she now found herself standing in. She couldn't see around her, the air was so thick with orange dust. It rushed at her, smothering her, trying to force it's way down her throat and choke her. Sarah really did panic this time.  
  
"Someone help!" She coughed, red-faced. "Goblin King!" She cried in desperation.  
  
"What do you want now, Sarah?" His voice drifted over. She looked up in the direction from whence it had come to see him emerge from the whirling storm. She blinked and rubbed sand out of her eyes, holding her sleeve to her mouth to block out the dust.  
  
Jareth stayed where he was, sand and wind tossing his wild blond mane about. He looked awful. His face was haggard and bitter, and coated in a film of dust which he barely seemed to notice, as if he'd given up entirely on ever being clean again. The shirt he wore was torn and bloodied, and orange dust covered it as well. He resembled a homeless vagabond more than he did a King.  
  
"Jareth..?" Sarah asked in shock.  
  
"I do not recall ever giving you permission to address me so casually," Jareth informed her coolly, his usual display of regal arrogance up in full force. Sarah ignored him, looking around distractedly.  
  
"My friends... where are my friends? Hoggle and Ludo and Didymus and... and everyone? Where are they?" She turned to face him. "What have you done to them?"  
  
"Perhaps you should be asking me what -you- have done to them," Jareth snarled, his mask of indifference falling away. He seemed tired, hopeless. "-I- have done nothing but cater to your whims, Sarah," he continued, his voice harsh with bitter resentment. "I granted your wish. I played out your ideal villain..." he was pacing around her like a large cat as he went on,"I risked everything for a selfish, thoughtless girl like you, and look what I have gotten in return." He halted in front of her and gestured grandly, mockingly. His eyes bored into hers. "Do not presume to ask what I have done, Sarah."  
  
"I-I don't understand..." Sarah looked lost. "Where are my friends?"  
  
"I haven't the faintest idea, Sarah. Perhaps you could tell me what has happened to my realm in my absence." His face fell into a pained expression and he leaned forward. "I gave you everything, Sarah, and you stole it out from under my nose and threw it all away. You have only yourself to blame for your missing companions." His voice faltered, and for one moment, she thought he was going to break down right in front of her. He turned suddenly and started to walk away. "There is nothing I can do for you now."  
  
"Wait!" Sarah cried, "Don't leave me here!" But he was already gone. The wind and sand rushed back in, burying her and filling her lungs as the ground simultaneously gave out beneath her and she plummeted into the ground. Sand, sand everywhere! She couldn't breathe! Sarah opened her mouth to scream...  
  
...And woke up, gasping.  
  
She sat up, trembling and damp with perspiration as she tried to calm her thundering heart. She had been suffocating, there was sand everywhere, in her eyes, in her lungs, and she couldn't breathe, and...  
  
And she couldn't remember anything else. Sarah took a few deep, calming breaths. It had just been a dream. Only a dream.  
  
She lay back, but she was far too wound up to go back to sleep just yet. After a moment of staring at the ceiling, she got out of bed and headed down towards the kitchen for a drink.  
  
There was no juice in the fridge, so Sarah had to settle for a glass of lemon water from earlier. She leaned back against the counter to drink it.  
  
Jareth was staring at her from his cage on the floor, and Sarah watched him as she sipped her water. He saw her looking and ruffled his feathers.  
  
"Hey there," she greeted. Not really sure of what she was doing, she walked over and sat down cross-legged on the floor beside him. The barn owl cocked his head to one side and peered up at her as she turned the case to look in through the bars. Maybe it was the nightmare she'd just had, but he really didn't seem that frightening in comparison. In fact, he really was a beautiful bird, she had to admit. The moonlight from the kitchen window shone through the bars, turning his white feathers a silvery blue. Large dark eyes gazed up at her with a sort of guarded curiosity that made him look both wary and vulnerable at the same time. Sarah tucked a lock of hair behind one ear and regarded him thoughtfully. It really wasn't his fault that he'd gotten hurt. He was scared and in pain, and he had a right to feel reluctant about letting her come near him.  
  
"I'm being selfish, aren't I?" She asked him rhetorically. The owl nudged the bars with his head and looked back up at her hopefully. Sarah fingered the bolt and bit her lip, watching the owl intently. He made no move to attack her, but stood back and glanced from her to the latch, then back again.  
  
"This is ridiculous..." She sighed and got up, putting her glass in the sink and heading back upstairs.  
  
Jareth heaved a sigh and sat back down. He'd been so very close! She had almost let him out. If only she'd decided to stay for another minute, he might have managed to convince her that he didn't wish her any harm. He was getting fairly desperate by this point. Perhaps he was limiting himself to how he would expect a normal barn owl to behave. What did it really matter, now? She knew it was him, and he was getting nowhere pretending ignorance. It seemed like now was an opportune time to stop behaving like a wild creature.  
  
His eyes fell on the bolt holding the door closed. She had left the cage facing away from the wall...  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Despite the awful dream she's had, Sarah slept well for the remainder of the night. She awoke the next morning feeling warm and relaxed, and reached out to stretch luxuriously.  
  
Her fingers brushed against something soft and alive. Sarah's eyes flew open and she looked down.  
  
It was on her bed. The owl was out of the cage and it was ON HER BED. She sat stone-still, petrified that she'd disturb him by moving away. He had made himself at home on her comforter, settled up against her side for warmth and dozing peacefully.  
  
Sarah blinked. It was just too bizarre to be frightening. Wild owls did -not- just curl up next to the nearest human for a nap! How could this possibly be? He was almost acting like a pet...  
  
It dawned on her that maybe he had been trained by someone in the past. Maybe that was why he chose to sit outside her window all the time. The possibility had never really occured to her before. It would explain why she hadn't managed to frighten him away when she had lost her temper that one time. And why she saw him everywhere, as if he were following her. That had to be it. There was no other explanation as to why he'd be lying on her covers as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  
  
Feeling bolder in light of this new epiphany, she cautiously stroked his feathers, ready to snatch her hand back in an instant. He stirred and lifted his head, craning around to face her. Sarah pulled back, but he didn't look anything but content as he let out a huge yawn and blinked at her slowly.  
  
"Oh, Jareth..." She breathed. This really was the strangest experience she'd ever had. He didn't seem wild in the least, not anymore. Even with an explanation at hand, it was nothing short of surreal.  
  
She slowly reached forward to pet him again. He didn't even hiss like she expected him to. In fact, he leaned into the caress, much to Sarah's delight. Reassured, she scratched his neck lightly, earning a blissful croon in return. Her free hand went to her mouth, and tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She let out something that was half laugh, half sob as all of the tension she had felt recently seemed to evaporate. She'd been so cruel to him for the past few days, but he wasn't holding it against her... he really wasn't vicious at all.  
  
"Sarah..." Karen stuck her head in through the doorway. Sarah looked up. Leave it to Karen to ruin a magical moment like this. "Time to get u-.. oh my God!" Her jaw dropped as she took in the scene in front of her.  
  
"What's going on?" Robert crowded in behind her at his wife's exclamation, and they both looked on in disbelief. Jareth turned his head to regard them smugly.  
  
"We're keeping him," Sarah stated with a grin. 


	14. Conflicts

Okie, here's the next chapter. n.n Tones things down quite a bit now that the whole J owl/S tension's gone for the time being. n.n; But there's original Nintendo! Feel the retro-y goodness! 3 *cough* Anyway...  
  
Disc: . o O (Why do I still bother with this thing? o.o)  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
Sarah's parents had been reluctant to let Jareth stay, to put it mildly. Karen had stated vehemently that he was unsafe, messy, wild and far too unpredictable. Sarah insisted that most pets were messy, he wasn't unsafe at the moment, everything was unpredictable at times, and couldn't she see that he was obviously not as wild as they'd thought? The two of them had argued about it for hours, with Sarah's father sitting on the fence for the most part and occasionally agreeing with something one or the other had said.  
  
In the end, Sarah won. Despite all of Karen's objections, it was difficult to just dismiss the evidence in front of them, especially when the subject of their dispute was sitting calmly in Sarah's lap and allowing her to pet him. Karen was forced to back down, but she made her stepdaughter promise to give the owl up without question if there was so much as one more incident. Sarah was loath to agree, but she really had little choice. It was that, or give him up immediately.  
  
One thing they both agreed on was that Jareth was to stay in Sarah's room. Sarah was feeling possessive and wanted to keep him with her, and Karen positively forbade her to let him wander her nice clean house and put the rest of the family at risk. After all, forming an attachment with Sarah did not mean he was willing to get along with the rest of them, and Toby especially would not be endangered because of a pet. And Sarah would have to accept full responsibility for the owl, including keeping him fed and cleaning up after him. Sarah was more than willing to agree to this particular term. She'd seen first-hand how well her father and stepmother had 'cared for' Jareth, and she wasn't about to let them try that again. Besides, it would give them the right to claim partial ownership, and Sarah didn't trust Karen to live up to her end of the bargain and leave her stepdaughter's owl alone. She wasn't about to give the older woman any leeway if she could help it.  
  
That had been three days ago. One of the first things Sarah had done, once she'd agreed to look after Jareth entirely on her own, was to call the librarian and inquire about the job she had been offered. Mrs. Jenkinson had been happy to give her a position, and today was her first day of work.  
  
Jareth sat in his box, preening his wings carefully. Karen and Robert were studiously avoiding Sarah's room now that they were relieved of all responsibility towards him, so he wasn't bothered by them anymore. The box was more comfortable than the carry case by far, and the house was reasonably quiet, allowing him time to think and catch up on his sleep. He had more or less fallen into a regular sleeping pattern as of late, and fortunately, Sarah's place of employment was close enough to her home so that he suffered no discomfort in that area.  
  
All told, he was considerably better off now that he was back in Sarah's good graces. He really should have tried acting tame sooner. Sarah was thrilled to have him behaving civilly, and by the way she practically gushed over him (now that he was willing to let her), it seemed as though she didn't hate him as much as he had thought, at least not anymore. It was still embarrassing, being thought of as a pet, but he'd get back at her for that soon enough. For now, he was considering how to use this newfound trust to his advantage. The other family members wouldn't come near him, so as long as he didn't attack Sarah again, he was in a good position to plan out his next move. And he would -never- attack Sarah again. Revenge was one thing, but physically harming her was another entirely.  
  
Besides, it would be a hindrance to his scheming to do so. He needed his powers back, first and foremost. Sarah wasn't aware that she was in possession of them, and she was proving to be far too fickle as of late to be trusted with maintaining them without that knowledge. Since he couldn't just enlighten her, Jareth needed to retrieve them before she unwittingly did something irreversible. Anything else was secondary, revenge included, and thus he wasn't about to endanger his new position until he had milked it for all it was worth. All he had to do was bide his time. If he played his cards right, she'd wish his powers back to him all on her own.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah was really enjoying her new job. The atmosphere was relaxed and friendly, most of her co-workers were just as fond of a good story as she was, and the work was fairly easy. It took her a little while to familiarize herself with the shelving system (they used the Dewey Decimal system, which was completely numerical and took some getting used to), but she got the hang of it fairly quickly.  
  
Mrs. J (as Sarah had taken to calling her when she started working there) was a fairly good employer, as bosses went. She was very understanding when it came to homework and other commitments, and Sarah was given very flexible hours. The library wasn't terribly busy, but being one of the only branches in town, they got a good chunk of the local business and so the pay wasn't bad.  
  
There were, of course, the few bad apples who came in and always managed to give the staff a hard time. Sarah really liked the job too much to let it get to her for the most part, but this afternoon in particular was shaping out to be one of those days where she was beginning to wish she'd just decided to call in sick.  
  
She went to shelve some books on the cart with a sigh. It was pouring rain outside, and almost half the people who had come so far had been muddy and irritable. She'd already had to help several grouchy people who obviously thought she had nothing better to do than spend hours helping them find the right book. Granted that it was her job, but she was still new here, and no one had really had a specific book in mind. Saying 'I'll know it when I see it' was all fine and good for them, but it didn't help Sarah in the least.  
  
She glanced at the clock. Another 25 minutes, she reminded herself, and she could go home. Today had been insanely busy, a phenomenon which, according to her co-workers, wasn't unusual at all for a rainy Saturday. There were a lot of children especially, as parents tried to find something to occupy their little ones on such a cold, wet day.  
  
In fact, here came some now, Sarah noted with an internal groan as an impatient-looking woman called for her attention, three preschool-aged children trailing behind her.  
  
"Excuse me," the woman said. One of her tag-alongs tugged on her pant leg and she shushed him.  
  
"Yes?" Sarah plastered on a helpful smile.  
  
"I need help finding a certain book," the woman informed her, naming a title Sarah didn't recognize.  
  
"Just a minute, I'll check for you," Sarah replied, heading over to the filing cards. "It doesn't seem to be here," she announced after a moment of searching the appropriate drawer without success.  
  
"The lady I spoke with on the phone a few days ago told me you had it," the woman replied coolly.  
  
"Did she put it on hold for you?" Sarah asked, while trying to remain polite.  
  
"She offered, but I wasn't sure when I would be in to pick it up, so I told her not to bother." The woman shrugged. Sarah wanted to tell her that they could have held it for her anyway, but decided that it wasn't worth risking an argument.  
  
"One moment while I check to see if we have it on file," Sarah told her, heading over towards the nearest terminal. The computers the library had were fairly new, and Sarah was still a little nervous about using them. She reassured herself that it wasn't that hard as she brought up the search key and typed in the information. She drummed her fingers on the countertop nervously while the computer crunched on the data.  
  
"Here it is," she smiled when a list of titles and authors popped up onto the screen. "You wanted this one, right?" Sarah tapped the monitor and the woman nodded.  
  
"That's the one," she agreed as Sarah grabbed a slip of paper and copied down the number of the book's location on the shelves.  
  
"Okay, right this way," Sarah glanced at the code and headed down the appropriate aisle. She found the section she wanted and scanned the shelves while the woman hovered. After a moment, she pulled a book free and handed it to the other woman. "Here you are," she announced proudly.  
  
The woman looked at the cover and frowned. "This isn't the book I wanted."  
  
Sarah's smile fell. "Huh? It's not?" She read the title aloud. "'Harry's Home Improvement Handbook: A Guide For Do-It-Yourselfers'?"  
  
Sure enough, a cursory glance at the other titles confirmed it. They were in the wrong section altogether.  
  
"I don't understand," Sarah puzzled, looking at the slip of paper in her hand. Had she copied the code down wrong?  
  
The other woman let out an annoyed sigh. "You're new here, aren't you?" She snapped on her way back to the terminal. Sarah followed behind meekly. "Had to get stuck with the new girl," the woman was muttering as she looked at the monitor. "See, you didn't scroll down." She pointed to a little flashing arrow in the bottom right-hand corner of the orange and black screen.  
  
Sarah felt like kicking herself. How could she have missed that?  
  
"You copied down the wrong code," The woman continued in a patronizing tone. "That's for the branch downtown."  
  
"Oh.." Sarah said sheepishly. "Oops."  
  
"Yeah, 'oops'." The woman scribbled down the right code, muttering about incompetent staff. Sarah felt ashamed as the woman walked away. She crouched down to re-shelve some books that the woman's son had pulled out onto the floor, her hair hanging down to conceal her flaming cheeks. The lady had percieved that she was new. Did she have to have been so rude? Her embarrassment turned to anger as she headed back to the shelf where she had been putting books away. If the woman had known how to use the search engine, she should have just done it herself!  
  
There was a man standing beside the almost-empty cart when she got back to it. He was picking some of them up and adding them to the pile on one arm. He looked up with a frown as she approached. "Excuse me... do you know what happened to the rest of the books in this pile?"  
  
"What pile?" Sarah asked intelligently.  
  
"There was a pile of books here on the Renaissance that I was going to take out," he responded in a tone that implied that she should know that already. Sarah sighed. Today just wasn't working for her.  
  
"I'm sorry," she told him apologetically, "I thought they were going back on the shelf. I can help you find them again if you want."  
  
"You re-shelved them!?" The young man exploded. "But it took me all afternoon to find them! I have a huge paper to write for Monday!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Sarah repeated, "They were on the cart of books to be re- shelved. If you want me to help you find them all again, I will."  
  
The man gave her a dirty look. "No, thank you, I'll find them on my own," he muttered angrily.  
  
Sarah watched him stalk off and leaned over on the counter, dropping her head onto her arms. She'd never felt so incompetent in her life. Everyone was getting angry at her today. "I can't do anything right, can I," she sighed to no one in particular.  
  
She checked her watch. Twelve more minutes. Close enough.  
  
"Hey Sarah, you heading off for the day?" One of her co-workers, Jesse, asked as Sarah came into the staff room and reached for her coat.  
  
"Yeah," Sarah nodded. "You know if it's still raining out?"  
  
"Pouring," Jesse affirmed. "Hope you brought an umbrella."  
  
Sarah sighed and made a face. "No, I didn't."  
  
"You poor thing." Jesse looked sympathetic. "Do you want a ride home? I'm off in an hour if you don't mind waiting around for a bit."  
  
"No, that's alright," Sarah smiled weakly at the other girl. "It's not far from here, I can walk."  
  
"You sure?"  
  
"Yeah. I just wanna get home. Thanks for the offer, though." Sarah pulled the zipper tab up on her jacket and headed out the door. "I'll see you around."  
  
"Later," Jesse called after her.  
  
Sarah was soaked by the time she got home 20 minutes later. She fished around for her house key, only to discover that she didn't have it. "Great..." she grumbled. Sighing, she checked all the doors and windows, but they were all locked. Karen and her dad must have stepped out. They'd have taken Toby with them, so Sarah concluded that they wouldn't be gone for too long.  
  
Alex was standing on his front porch with a lit cigarette when she came back around to wait by her front door. "Hey, Sar, you locked out?" He called.  
  
"Yeah, forgot my key," she called back. "Gotta wait for Karen and Dad to get back."  
  
"Wanna come wait in here? It's a hell of a lot better than sitting on the porch," Alex offered. "I was just gonna make some hot chocolate if you want some."  
  
"Sounds good." Sarah smiled and walked over to join him.  
  
"Just a sec while I finish my smoke," Alex told her. He inhaled a few more times and flicked the smouldering butt out into the lawn, and they both went inside.  
  
"Alexander," Mrs. Andrews called from the kitchen. "You better not be throwing your cigarette butts on my lawn again!"  
  
Alex smirked at Sarah. "No, Mother." Sarah stifled a laugh.  
  
"Who's that with you?" Alex's mom came into the front hallway, drying her hands on a faded dishtowel. "Oh, hello, Sarah! I haven't seen you in a while!"  
  
"Hello, Mrs. Andrews," Sarah smiled.  
  
"We're just gonna make some hot chocolate and head down to the basement, Mom," Alex explained, grabbing Sarah and pulling her into the kitchen before his mother could initiate a conversation.  
  
"Alright, well, I'm finished in there anyway." Mrs. Andrews called, taking the hint. "You two behave yourselves."  
  
"Yes, Mother," Alex rolled his eyes and put some water into a tea kettle to boil. "So how's that new job going, anyway?" He asked Sarah while they waited.  
  
"In general? It's fine, I love it. But don't even get me started on today." Sarah sighed.  
  
"Why, what happened?" Alex picked an orange out of the fruit bowl and started tossing it absently.  
  
Sarah shrugged. "Rude people who didn't want to cut the new employee some slack."  
  
"Shitty," Alex commented.  
  
"Well, most of the time it's not so bad. I can deal with one or two grouchy people. There were just a lot of them today," she said defensively. "Besides, it beats flipping burgers at McDonald's."  
  
"Hey, don't bad-mouth flipping burgers!" Alex protested with a grin to show that he was joking.  
  
"Right, your job, I forgot."  
  
"Hey, it's extra cash," Alex shrugged. "I'm only in it for the experience, anyway, then I'll get a better job."  
  
"What do you need the money for, anyway?" Sarah asked as Alex poured the cocoa powder into mugs and added the boiling water.  
  
"Really, Sar, you need to ask?" Alex raised an eyebrow. "Smokes ain't cheap, y'know."  
  
"You could quit," Sarah pointed out.  
  
"Easier said than done." He dropped a few squares of chocolate into the mugs, followed by some marshmallows and a mint each. He shook up a can of whipped cream and sprayed some into the top before handing a mug to Sarah.  
  
"Wow," Sarah blinked. "Overkill much?"  
  
"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it," Alex admonished as he led the way downstairs. His basement was almost exactly the way Sarah remembered it from years ago, with the addition of a Nintendo wired to the big old TV they used to watch movies on as kids.  
  
"Hey, can we play?" She asked, glancing at the pile of games lying beside the little grey console.  
  
"Sure," Alex picked up the tangle of cords that were the controllers and started to unwind them. "Which one did you wanna play?"  
  
"Hmm, I don't know..." Sarah skimmed the titles. She picked up one game and looked at it. "How about this one?"  
  
Alex flipped on the TV and glanced at the gold cartridge. "Zelda, huh? Figures that you'd go for that one."  
  
"And what's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"Oh, nothing." Alex blinked innocently as he inserted the game and hit the power switch. The tv lit up with the title screen and tinny music came from the speakers. "So do you wanna play my file or start your own? I haven't beat this one yet, myself."  
  
"Lemme start my own," Sarah told him, grabbing the controller and entering her name. "So what do I do?"  
  
"Run around and kill things... wait, go into that cave first and get the sword from the old man."  
  
"Okay," Sarah did so, "Now what?"  
  
"Now just go kill things, you need to get money so you can buy some stuff before you hit the level 1 fortress." Alex leaned back with his hot chocolate to watch.  
  
"This isn't so bad," Sarah was saying as she moved to the next screen. "It's.. aaiee! How do you kill those horse things?"  
  
"You can't yet," Alex said quickly, "Just run away, and don't let them hit- " He stopped short as one of the little flying swords collided with Link. "- you."  
  
"Eeep!" Sarah cried as Link spun around and fell over dead. She shot a glare at Alex, who was snickering quietly. "Oh, like you did any better when you played the first time!"  
  
"Well, no, but I didn't have anyone helping me, either." He stated smugly.  
  
Sarah raised her chin, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Oh yeah? We'll just see if I can't do better than you did!"  
  
"Hey, relax," he laughed. "It's just a game, just hit continue. No, no, go right first!"  
  
"Stop telling me!" Sarah exclaimed, elbowing him in the arm.  
  
She got so caught up in playing that it wasn't until a quarter to eleven that she realized how long she'd been there. She glanced at her watch and panicked.  
  
"Crap, I don't believe it! I gotta go, Alex..." She told her host, running up the stairs and grabbing her coat. "Thanks for the hot chocolate, by the way."  
  
"Hey, no problem," Alex said, giving Sarah a hug. "It was fun, hey? We should do it again sometime."  
  
"Yeah," Sarah smiled, pulling on her runners. "Sounds fun. See you later!"  
  
"Yeah, later!" He waved after her and closed the door.  
  
Her front door swung in as she was reaching for the handle. Sarah looked up to see Karen standing there, looking.. angry didn't seem to cover it. More like livid. She was the perfect image of the archetypical Wicked Stepmother.  
  
"Where have you been!?" Karen demanded.  
  
"I-I was next door," Sarah stuttered.  
  
"Next door? Next door!? Why didn't you leave a message? What did I buy that answering machine for? You just took off without telling anyone where you were going! Your father and I were both very worried about you! We called your work and they said you'd left hours ago, no one knew anything about where you were.. I swear, you can be so selfish sometimes!"  
  
"I'm sorry!" Sarah wailed. "I forgot my key and I was locked out, and Alex invited me to wait over there for you guys to get home, and then we just sort of lost track of the time..."  
  
"We were only gone for 15 minutes, Sarah. You scared everyone! We were about to call the police and file a report!" Karen folded her arms across her chest and glared at her stepdaughter.  
  
"I said I was sorry! It's not like I meant to forget to call, I just did!"  
  
"Regardless of whether you meant to or not, you're grounded."  
  
"I'm already grounded," Sarah argued.  
  
"Well, then you're just grounded for longer now. No going anywhere other than work and school for the next month. I swear, I don't know what's going through your head lately! This Alex boy seems to be a terrible influence!"  
  
"What, just because he didn't want me to catch pneumonia waiting in the rain!?" Sarah snapped.  
  
"Don't you talk back to me like that!" Karen's eyes flashed. "All these stunts you've been pulling lately show a lack of responsibility on your part! I don't know if we should let you keep that owl after all. You didn't even bother to feed it yet today!"  
  
Sarah felt a stab of guilt at that. It was true, she should have been home to feed him hours ago. She felt the sting of tears forming in her eyes and forced them down stubbornly. She would not cry in front of Karen. She couldn't.  
  
"Now, I want you to go to your room, and I want you to stay there. And feed that thing before it decides to go wandering around the house again!" Karen was saying.  
  
"Fine!" Sarah spat, hurrying up the stairs.  
  
"And don't snap at me, this is your own fault, Sarah." Karen yelled after her. "You've been nothing but a spoiled child lately!"  
  
"Oh, -I've- been acting spoiled?" Sarah paused at the top of the stairs. "I'm not the one who wanted to kill off an innocent animal because I'm squeamish about my nice clean house getting a little dirty!"  
  
"What did you just say to me!?" Karen demanded.  
  
Jareth sat in Sarah's room, wide awake and listening. That stupid girl. She should have just let the comment slide. Now they'd be at it for a good half hour longer, if his guess was right. Sarah was too stubborn to back down, and Karen was aggravated enough to fight back.  
  
Besides, the comment about not letting him stay worried him. If Karen decided he wasn't welcome anymore, then that was it. He had already done everything he could think of to convince them to keep him here. The domesticated act had been a last resort, something that, he was almost positive, shouldn't have worked at all. He was at his wit's end. Was the girl -trying- to get rid of him!?  
  
He heard her shout "Fine!" and come flouncing into the room, slamming the door behind her. Karen shot something in reply, but she ignored it. "Hey, Jareth," she let out a frustrated sigh and sat down with a bowl of meat scraps to feed him. Jareth eyed her as he ate. She was obviously trying to hold back from crying, and it wasn't long before she gave up and let the tears fall.  
  
Jareth crooned worriedly and nudged her hand. He knew an opportunity when he saw one. And besides, it wasn't right that she should be feeling sad. If she was going to cry, it should be because of him, not because of some petty mortal woman who had more control over his Sarah's life than she deserved.  
  
"Oh, Jareth.." She picked him up and cuddled him against her chest, burying her face in his back, while Jareth rested his head on her arm. Her tears were wetting his feathers, which was irritating, but he dismissed it as a necessary annoyance. As long as she felt closer to him by the end of the night, it was worth the discomfort. He was starting to get an idea of how he could get his revenge, and it would fit in well with getting his powers back, once he figured out how to do that. Turnabout was fair play, after all.  
  
He really wished she'd stop crying, though. His heart twisted at the sound, and he had to quash the urge to sympathize with her. It was absolutely vital that he stay focused on his objective. He couldn't allow himself to grow soft now.  
  
'She did worse to you, don't forget that. She deserves what grief she gets,' he told himself. But somehow he couldn't make himself believe it. 


	15. Revelation

Lookie! Another chapter! n.n UAW: Yeah, me too! It still runs great, too, although one or two of my games don't want to work half of the time. But that's okay, that's what emulators are for. *grin*grin* Anyway, important chapter, so I expect lotsa reviews! n.- *iggles* I'm such an praise-monger. n.n()  
  
Disc: What disclaimer? They're mine! All mine! *gets slapped with a lawsuit* Geeze, I was kidding! *sighs and empties her wallet* There. 26 cents. And that's canadian money. S'all I have. *sighs*  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
By the time Sarah's first paycheque rolled around, Jareth was getting tired of the box. Not that he didn't appreciate it in comparison to the carry case, but he was healing a little more every day, and he was starting to grow restless. He could move his wings now without any pain at all, although they would remain useless for a while when it came to flying. He would need to gradually build the muscles in them back up, but he couldn't do so in such a cramped space.  
  
He was going to make sure Sarah got the message, too. She got home from work that day to find that the box's interior was shredded. The owl had his beak hooked over the cardboard rim (which now had several tears and a few chunks missing), and was tugging steadily. Another piece tore off and he spat it out onto the desk top.  
  
"Hey!" Sarah dropped her bag and rushed over to inspect the damage. Jareth tilted his head and watched her finger the tattered rim. "Again, Jare? That's the third one this weekend..." She looked at him and sighed. "Guess we need to look into getting you a cage."  
  
The Goblin King's head snapped up and he backed away, eyes wide. Not another cage...  
  
Sarah saw his horrified expression and giggled. "A big one," she clarified, "or a perch or something." Jareth relaxed visibly. As long as she wasn't thinking of something as cramped and uncomfortable as that carry case, he wouldn't mind. Sarah scratched his neck affectionately as she thought about it. "But in the meantime, you're going to need another box."  
  
Jareth paused mid-croon and sighed. Yes, of course. Another box. How silly of him to forget.  
  
"Sorry, it's just until we find you something better," the girl promised. "Wait here while I find another box for you, okay?"  
  
Well, at least he was graduating from box status soon, Jareth thought as she walked off. He couldn't really see much of Sarah's room from where he was, so the change of scenery would be welcome. It would certainly be an improvement over brown cardboard walls and Sarah's plain white stucco ceiling.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
  
  
Sarah dug around through the attic, searching for something that her charge could use. It was proving to be a much more daunting task than she'd anticipated. Her family habitually hung onto every single piece of memorabilia that they'd received over the years, and it had managed to accumulate into quite the impressive collection. While this increased her chances of finding something usable, it also meant there was more to dig through in order to find it.  
  
She'd been up here for a good hour now, after getting Jareth a new box and watching him settle down to sleep. He'd be awake again soon, since it was almost dusk, so she couldn't spend too much longer up here. Sarah glanced at the pile of dusty old junk she'd just finished sifting through and stretched tired, aching muscles. So far, she hadn't really come across anything, aside from an old wardrobe that looked promising, if she could get the permission from her father to modify it a bit. It would be ideal, in fact, but it would be a lot of work, and she needed to get a hold of some materials first, anyway. She needed something else in the meantime, before Jareth destroyed another box.  
  
Sarah rubbed the back of her sore neck absently as she thought about her owl. It was still really strange, having him around, and she'd been forced to take on a lot of responsibility in taking care of both him and Merlin. Her dog would have to go in for a checkup soon, she realized. The idea made her nervous. Karen would probably come along, and it was almost guaranteed that her stepmother would mention Jareth to Dr. Trapp. Sarah was sure -that- would go over real well. She wasn't sure what she'd do once he found out, although she was hoping that, once the veterinarian saw how well the barn owl was being taken care of, he'd decide to let her keep Jareth. And she really wanted to keep him.  
  
Sarah smiled. She'd grown quite fond of the little owl lately, ever since she'd woken up and he'd been there next to her. It still felt a bit unreal, but she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. He was so amiable that she had no doubts that he'd been born in captivity or similarly tamed, and he'd just escaped and gotten lost, or was abandoned. Whatever the circumstances were, he seemed used to people, and the way he behaved was almost human. Sarah was almost sure at times that he knew more of what was happening than he let on. After all, owls were said to be really intelligent, right? Sarah wouldn't be surprised.  
  
A glint of metal caught her eye from a corner of the attic she had yet to explore. Wading through boxes and reaching up to pull the chord on the extra light hanging above her head, she peered closer to see what it was. The dusty old light bulb added a faded yellow glow to the dim illumination from the other bulb across the room, and Sarah could now make out a brass pole as the source of the gleam. It was lying at a funny angle, propped up against some boxes as if it had been tossed there, and partially hidden by a rolled-up old rug that used to adorn the floor in the basement. She got close enough to reach it by stretching, although she had to yank hard to free it and she nearly lost her balance twice.  
  
Sarah held it up and studied it. She had been almost positive that this lamp had been given away to the Salvation Army or something. It was the gaudiest old thing. The pole ran up from a wide, round base that was cracking and chipped, proving that the 'brass' wasn't really brass at all, only some other metal that was painted to look that way. The neck ran upwards for about three feet, then bent at a 90 degree angle to run sideways for a bit, before finally making up it's mind and heading up again. A dingy, dusty yellow half-cone rested on top, made from some sort of strange paper mache that resembled bits of masking tape stuck into a crude effigy of a lampshade. It was absolutely hideous.  
  
But it was perfect for what Sarah wanted it for. The lamp was designed so that it could overhang an easy chair or a bed by jutting out sideways, and the length of horizontal bar was about the perfect size for a bird of Jareth's size to perch on comfortably, with some extra room to move around a bit. Sarah started to wade back out of the mess, a triumphant grin on her face.  
  
The next thing she did was find some duct tape and an old, ratty towel. She took off the lampshade and the metal frame that came with it and went to work. In no time at all, she had a usable perch, which she brought up to her room and set down in front of Jareth with an air of satisfaction.  
  
"Look what I made for you," she announced proudly. The owl yawned and opened his eyes to see what she'd woken him up over. "Didn't I tell you that I'd get you a perch or something?" She continued as she reached in to lift him out of the box, mindful of how she held him around his wings, and set him down on the towel-wrapped bar. "Be right back," she called as she took the box and left the room to get an old newspaper.  
  
Jareth shifted his weight experimentally. Not bad at all. The padding was comfortable, and he no longer felt claustrophobic. This was definitely -much- better than his previous accommodations, he noted with approval.  
  
He stretched his wings and looked around curiously. He'd never really gotten a good look at Sarah's room before, although he'd glanced around when he had snuck into her room to climb onto her bed, and again while he sat in her lap soon afterwards. He'd watched her plenty of times through his crystals, true, but they tended to fuzz everything around the subject unless he willed it otherwise. Interesting how many of her possessions resembled aspects of his Labyrinth. He'd have to look into that when he got the chance.  
  
His eye fell on an object on the desk behind him and he blinked, peering closer to inspect it. He'd never noticed it before, mostly because it had been hidden behind the box. Now the box was gone,and Jareth wasn't quite sure whether to feel amused or insulted.  
  
Good grief, was that supposed to be -him-?  
  
The little figure did loosely resemble him, although it didn't do him nearly enough justice, he noted with a sniff. At least it's attire was somewhat accurate, but his silky blond mane was -much- nicer than the dull pale mess of what passed for hair on the tiny statuette, and his complexion wasn't nearly so colorless.  
  
Jareth scoffed and looked away. Where in all Aboveground the girl had gotten the thing, he couldn't imagine, although he reluctantly admitted that he was somewhat flattered that she had it at all. It meant that she thought about him, which was encouraging.  
  
Still... he looked back and cringed. The thing was absolutely frightening.  
  
He heard a familiar giggle behind him as Sarah came back in. "You like that thing, hey?" She grinned and set the newspaper down on the bed, picking up the ugly Goblin King replica and holding it up in front of him. "Isn't it creepy-looking? 'Hello!'" She spoke for the statue in an eerie falsetto imitation of his usual clipped tones, "'I am the Goblin King, Jareth. No one can beat my Labyrinth! Ah hah hah hah hah!'"  
  
She made it dance about, while Jareth watched in appalled fascination. He got the distinct impression that he was being mocked.  
  
"'No one can resist my stunning charms and good looks,'" she continued in the same doll-voice. "'Why yes, I do have a lemon in my pants! Would you like a peach? Or perhaps I could offer you your dreams.'" Sarah's grin turned positively wicked as she went on, "'All you have to do is accept my crystal balls! Just touch my balls, Sarah, and I can make all your dreams come true!'"  
  
Jareth balked and lost his balance, tumbling to the carpet.  
  
"Omigosh!" Sarah set the statue back on the desk and reached down to scoop the owl up gently, cradling him in her arms. "You okay?"  
  
Jareth squirmed and she set him down on the tabletop. He shook his feathers and stared at her in disbelief. Had -his- Sarah just said what he'd thought she had? Were he in his other form, he would be turning a lovely shade of red right about now.  
  
"Towel must have come loose," she muttered, tugging at it. "Guess I'll have to tape it on better."  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"I really don't like it, Sarah," Karen stated at dinner.  
  
"What don't you like about it?" Sarah asked after swallowing a bite of pasta.  
  
"It's too open. That owl could just hop off and go anywhere it wants, and I've told you already, it's not to leave your room." Her stepmother reminded her primly.  
  
"Oh, for heaven's sake.." Sarah rolled her eyes. "He's not going to leave my room, I'm just taking him out of that stuffy little box. You were the one who kept complaining about how he was ripping them to pieces, remember? Besides," she added, taking a sip of her milk, "if Dad'll give me permission to use that old wardrobe up in the attic, it'll only be temporary."  
  
Robert mumbled something through a mouthful of noodles. Karen nudged him under the table with her foot, and he swallowed before repeating the question. "Which old wardrobe?"  
  
"Oh, the old green one, I'll show you after dinner. I was thinking of taking the panels out of the doors and replacing them with chicken wire. It would be really secure," Sarah looked at Karen. "I could put a sliding lock on the doors so that he couldn't get out, and it would be a lot roomier for him, and easier to keep clean."  
  
"That sounds like a good idea," Karen agreed. "We even have some extra locks in the shed, don't we, honey?"  
  
"Mmm hmm," Sarah's father agreed, "I'll have to see this wardrobe of yours, and then we'll decide whether or not it's a good plan."  
  
"But you're buying the chicken wire yourself," Karen insisted. "You have a job now, and that owl is-"  
  
"..My responsibility, I know, I know." Sarah rolled her eyes. "I'll go buy some tomorrow at the hardware store, if Dad'll drive me."  
  
"Let's just see about this wardrobe first, okay?" Robert repeated.  
  
"Fine," Sarah relented, "But I'm telling you, it's perfect for it."  
  
"And if it's not, you still need to think of somewhere else to put that thing, because I will not have it sitting on a perch out in the open. You can always put him back in Merlin's carry case if it comes down to it." Karen speared a noodle on her fork and popped it into her mouth as she eyed her stepdaughter.  
  
Sarah 'mmph'ed and swallowed her mouthful, rolling her eyes yet again. "I am not putting him back in that thing, Karen, he was miserable in there."  
  
"Well, it's only a suggestion," Karen sniffed. "I still think he shouldn't be out in the open at all. It's too dangerous."  
  
Sarah bit back a protest. It wouldn't help her case at all if she got her stepmother angry again. "Well, hopefully the wardrobe will work out, and then you won't have to worry any more. The perch is only temporary," she reminded them.  
  
"Yes, well, we'll see how it works out," Karen agreed, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "But I want you to keep your door closed at all times."  
  
"Don't worry," Sarah reassured them as she stood up to take her empty plate to the kitchen. "I don't think the perch idea will really cause any problems at all."  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah groaned and opened her eyes, awakened by yet another thump. She glanced at the clock on her bedside table. 7:23 am. Damn it, today was -supposed- to be her day to sleep in. She pushed the covers aside and got out of bed to pick her owl up off of the floor. Again.  
  
He looked up at her with sleepy, dazed brown eyes as she lifted him up and held him against her chest. So much for the perch idea not causing problems. She'd completely forgotten that barn owls were concave-dwellers. They slept on flat surfaces. They weren't built to sleep comfortably on little tiny perches. She sighed and wondered if this was going to be going on all day. Every time she put him back on the bar, he fell asleep and ended up falling off again sooner or later.  
  
Yawning, she crawled back under the covers, the owl still nestled in her arms. If she had to bring him to bed with her to get some extra sleep, then that's what she'd do. She settled back down and he leaned against her, burying his face against her collarbone and going back to sleep. Sarah dozed off again a few moments later, gently hugging the soft warm thing beside her.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
He was standing on a glassy pane, looking at the world below. The land all around him was barren and grey, and sharp stones jutted up from the ground, cold and merciless. He knew that whatever he did, he couldn't touch the ground, or he'd die. The sky above him was a sickly shade of green, intermingled with streaks of thick black and blood-red. Jareth shuddered. The whole place was deathly quiet, lifeless, and a horrible sense of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. He looked down.  
  
The surface below him turned out to be the top of a giant hourglass. Only there was no bottom to it, and as he peered over the edge, he could see the warm golden sand inside flowing out of the funnel and spilling onto the unforgiving ground below. As it hit, it turned the same awful grey as the rocks, becoming dull and melting into the rest of the ground.  
  
There was something hauntingly familiar about the sand that made Jareth's stomach twist as he watched. He steeled himself and looked down into the hourglass, a sinking feeling in his gut telling him that he already knew the answer.  
  
Sure enough, it was a miniature version of the Underground that sat inside, slowly sinking lower and lower. One by one, different parts of it were disappearing under the sand with a sickening 'schlorp' sound, almost as if the sand were mud instead of desert. They fell out through the bottom and onto the chilly stone below, turning grey and shattering into unrecognizable fragments.  
  
Jareth fell onto his hands and knees. He couldn't breathe. He felt positively ill.  
  
He looked closer, and he could see Sarah inside, standing with her three travel companions and looking around in confusion.  
  
"Sarah!" He called. Her head shot up and her eyes met his. She looked lost.  
  
"What's going on?" She called back as the world around her sank. Hoggle took a step forward and glared up at the Goblin King.  
  
"What're you doin' back here, Jareth?" He shook his knobby fist. "This is all yer doing, ain't it!? Come down here and fix it, ya rat!"  
  
Jareth closed his eyes. "I can't."  
  
"Whaddaya mean, you can't!?" Hoggle demanded. Jareth ignored him.  
  
"Sarah, you need to make it stop," he told her.  
  
"W-what?" Sarah blinked. "I don't understand... how?"  
  
Jareth opened his mouth to reply, but the glass underneath him shook and he was tossed against it roughly.  
  
"Ludo!" Sarah was screaming. "Ludo!"  
  
"Sawah!" The great beast lowed, sounding scared. The desert below him gave way and was sucking him in. "Sawaaah!"  
  
"Ludo!"  
  
"Fear not, my brother, I will save thee!" Didymus came charging in on Ambrosius, ready to pull Ludo out. Another tremor shook the ground, and the sheepdog panicked, throwing Didymus off and scrambling to get away. Ludo was pulled right under, and Didymus followed head-first. Ambrosius didn't get far before he was sucked into the dusty ground as well. There was a loud 'whump' as the sand settled over where they had been.  
  
"Didymus!" Sarah sobbed. "Ludo!" It had all happened so fast...  
  
Jareth pushed himself to his knees, spitting out blood. He looked back down at the sound of his name.  
  
"Jareth!" Sarah cried again, wiping away tears determinedly. "What do I do?"  
  
"You have to-" he began, and was cut off by another earthquake. Sarah whirled around in time to see Hoggle get pulled into the sand as well.  
  
"Damn you, Jareth!" He cried, and was swallowed up.  
  
"No! Hoggle!" Sarah fell to her knees and clawed at the sand. "Hoggle!"  
  
Jareth squeezed his eyes shut, unable to watch as the girl dug into the sand, trying to retrieve her friend. She finally gave up and sat back, covering her eyes with one dirtied hand and weeping bitterly.  
  
"Jareth!" Sarah stood up shakily, her voice pleading. "Do something! Bring them back! Tell me how to bring them back!"  
  
Now Jareth hesitated. The last two tremors had happened because he'd made an attempt to help her. He knew with an unshakable certainty that she'd be next if he tried again. The thought of losing her... it was unthinkable, plain and simple.  
  
"...I cannot." He slumped in defeat. She'd be sucked in before the words could even leave his mouth.  
  
"What!? Please! I'll do anything!" She begged. "I don't care about defying you anymore, just bring them back! Please..." Her voice broke as she saw that he wouldn't give in to her wishes.  
  
She really didn't understand, he thought sadly. He looked away, unable to face her any longer.  
  
"Damn you, why won't you help me!?" Sarah demanded.  
  
The ground shook again, and Jareth's eyes widened in alarm. The sand was almost gone! "Sarah! Get out of there!"  
  
Sarah screamed as she was sucked in up to her waist. "Help me!" Her voice grew shrill with terror. "Please! Jareth!" Her cries were cut off as she disappeared under the sand, her hand stretching upwards in desperation before it, too, was swallowed up.  
  
"No!!" Jareth shouted, pounding at the glass with his fists. "Sarah!" Oh, gods, she was gone... he had to get to her! "Sarah!" The pane split and shattered beneath him, and he was falling, falling...  
  
He shot upwards with a start and was momentarily blinded. Blinking, he turned away from the light as a pair of hands picked him up.  
  
"Ssssssh," Sarah soothed, "It's okay, Jareth, you're safe..."  
  
Jareth buried his face in her neck as relief flooded through him. She was alright, he was alright, it had only been that dream again. But it had felt so real...  
  
Someone was making small, frightened noises, and after a moment, he realized that it was him. Sarah continued to smooth his feathers, whispering comforting things to him and holding him reassuringly.  
  
After a while, he started to calm down enough to rationally think about the dream he'd just had. While he'd had it repeatedly for the last few nights now, it was the first time he could remember all of it. It wasn't terribly difficult to interpret. Any imbecile could tell what the sand running out through the half-hourglass meant. The magic would continue to seep out of his realm until there was nothing left, and the longer he waited to stop it, the harder it would be to reverse the damage. In all likelihood, it was happening already. Sarah still loved the Underground, as far as he knew, but she was starting to lose her faith in it, and she was distracted by too many everyday cares to daydream about it as often as she used to.  
  
Strangely enough, the thought of losing his kingdom hadn't frightened him nearly as much as the idea of losing Sarah. It hadn't just been the fact that she held his power. He had felt desperate, lost, quite literally sick to his stomach. He had, by now, grown used to the idea that he might never be able to go home again, but he had to admit that he wasn't quite sure what he'd do if Sarah wasn't around. He'd be dead right now. She was the only thing that kept him going lately. She was HIS Sarah, and he didn't relinquish what was his without a fight. And now that she'd finally stopped hating him, he wasn't quite so angry with her any more. Even if the circumstances were less than ideal.  
  
Jareth buried his face in her hair, reveling in the warmth that crept through him. Even if he didn't get his powers back or get to go home, things wouldn't be too bad if he could stay with her. He didn't feel quite so lost when Sarah was here. He practically melted when she began scratching his neck lightly. When had he grown so soft? It seemed as though he really had become a pet after all, but it didn't matter. He was in a better position because of it, and he couldn't bring himself to fight it any longer, anyway.  
  
And that was when it dawned on him, as clear as one of his crystals. Too late he realized his mistake, and there was nothing he could do to reverse it now.  
  
Heaven help him, he had let himself fall in love with her all over again. 


	16. Ignorance

Mou... Sorry, no dancing statuettes this time around. But here, have a chapter anyway. n.n; Eeeee, my boyfriend drove up to stay here for a week and he brought me a barn owl plushie! Three guesses as to what I named this one... n.-  
  
Disc: Feh.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Turning the old wardrobe into something usable turned out to be more of a challenge than Sarah thought. While the chicken wire had been easy enough to get ahold of (and had ended up costing less than Sarah had guessed, which was good), getting the wardrobe -out- of the attic turned out to be almost more trouble than it was worth. There were a lot of boxes and some miscellaneous pieces of furniture that they had to clear out of the way to get to it, and since there was no room to just push it all over, Sarah and her dad ended up having to move a lot of it into the rest of the house.  
  
Karen, needless to say, was not very happy about it. The attic had been one of the areas of the house that she hadn't really paid much attention to, but she certainly noticed the clutter now.  
  
"Look at all this junk," she complained, trying to squeeze around a stack of boxes in the middle of the hallway. "Really, I don't know why you two insist on hanging onto so many things."  
  
Sarah deposited another box on the pile and wiped her forehead with one sleeve of a worn flannel shirt. Her father followed behind and copied the action.  
  
"Well?" Karen demanded. "When are you going to let me have a garage sale and sell half of this junk? Or give it away to Goodwill or something? It's just sitting up there collecting dust." She looked at her husband questioningly. Robert shrugged.  
  
"It's coming in handy now, isn't it?" Sarah pointed out. "Besides, it's all going back up as soon as we get that wardrobe out."  
  
"Yes, but look at all the work you've had to do just to get at it," Karen said. "You've been at this for almost two hours now. If you'd sell some of it, you wouldn't be having this problem. Anyway," she added, "I came to tell you that dinner will be ready soon, so go and get cleaned up." Karen turned and started picking her way back to the stairs. "And make sure you have all of this put back before bed, you two."  
  
"Guess we'll get the wardrobe down after dinner, kiddo." Robert told his daughter.  
  
Sarah sighed. They'd just finished clearing out enough space to get it down, but she supposed it could wait until they'd eaten something. She rubbed the small of her back and winced. A hot shower would feel really, really nice right now. She didn't care that she'd probably end up needing another one before bed. She needed to soothe her aching muscles before she sat down to eat, and she should have enough time for one if she hurried.  
  
Her owl was wide awake when she came into her room 10 minutes later, wrapped in a bathrobe and feeling refreshed after her shower. She sat down on the bed and scratched his neck lightly.  
  
"Hey, sweetie," she cooed. "Feeling better now?"  
  
He leaned into her fingers and she smiled. The poor critter had been having a nightmare or something when she'd gotten back from the home improvement store earlier, and he'd been so scared when he'd woken up that it had taken her a good half hour to calm him down again. Funny, she hadn't known that birds could have bad dreams.  
  
"Sarah!" Karen called from downstairs. "Come for dinner!"  
  
"Just a minute!" Sarah called back, getting up and pulling some clothes out of her dresser drawers. She started to remove her bathrobe and paused. "Stop looking at me!" She told the owl, who blinked at her innocently. Sighing, she unwrapped the towel from her hair and threw it over him. He let out a squalk of protest and tried to shake it off.  
  
"I'll let you out in a second," Sarah promised as she dressed hurriedly. She felt a bit guilty, but still... she didn't like the idea of anyone watching her change, even if it was just an animal. She wouldn't let Merlin stay in her room when she was getting dressed, either.  
  
The bird of prey found the edge of the towel and poked his head out just as she was buttoning her jeans. He shot her a resentful glare and she giggled.  
  
"Sorry, Jareth." She picked up the wet linen and draped it over the back of the chair. "Seeing me naked is a no-no." He immediately looked away as though he'd lost interest, which made Sarah laugh again. She ran a brush through her wet hair a few times and hurried down to the dining room before Karen got annoyed.  
  
Jareth sighed as he watched her go. He would have faced the other way. She didn't have to throw that on top of him. He'd had enough of towels as it was.  
  
Besides, what was she really worried about? He certainly couldn't do anything. He was an owl, for crying out loud! Although he supposed he really couldn't blame her. Unlike the females of his realm, mortal women were such modest creatures, and his Sarah was not an exception.  
  
Really, now that he thought about it, he preferred her that way. She was -his- Sarah, after all. The idea of her being immodest around someone else, like that toad next door, for instance, didn't appeal to him in the least. The boy simply wasn't worthy of her, and that was that.  
  
Jareth supposed he was still angry with the brat. Really, though, he had no intention of forgiving him for his part in getting Sarah into trouble the other weekend. Presumptuous whelp. He was probably just trying to get Sarah into bed, anyway. Perhaps it was a good thing that Sarah was still grounded for the next two weeks. She'd be less likely to go over there, and even better, she'd spend more time in her room with Jareth instead. He liked that idea.  
  
Two more weeks. Hopefully Sarah would wish him his powers back by then. He was certain that he could convince her to do so, given enough time. Since she knew it was him already, it would only be a matter of time before she figured out what had happened anyway. She was a smart girl, after all.  
  
And then what? Revenge was seeming less and less important, and in light of his earlier epiphany, it was starting to look like it would never happen. Perhaps he could convince her to join him in his realm, although that didn't seem likely, either. Ah well, he could hope, right? She just might surprise him.  
  
He waited impatiently for Sarah to come back. Normally, he would still be sleeping now; dusk wasn't for another few hours, and it was still too bright out for his sensitive eyes. But the incident from earlier was keeping him awake. Even after he'd calmed down, his prophetic nightmare still left him feeling far too uneasy to be able to sleep, and his realization about Sarah wasn't helping in the slightest. Neither classified as the sort of incident one simply dismissed.  
  
On the one hand, there was his kingdom. Every moment wasted brought it closer to the brink, and soon there would be nothing that could pull it out of ruin. Sarah did not understand, not yet, anyway, and if he didn't find a way to tell her, there was a very real possibility that she might never know. It was clear to Jareth that he may need to force his Sarah to act in order to save it. Regardless of the method.  
  
But... she was his Sarah. He hated the idea of resorting to harshness in order to make her protect his realm from extinction. That was not to say that he would need to, of course; it all depended on her. But should it come to that, would he be able to do whatever it took? He was starting to have his doubts. This entire situation had made him soft, far too soft. He would have to steel himself for whatever measures he needed to take, should it come to that.  
  
He just hoped that, in the end, Sarah could forgive him.  
  
She was back again, the usual bowl of meat scraps in hand. "Hey, handsome, didja miss me? Bet you're hungry, huh?" She sat down on the edge of the bed and started to feed him. She'd brought him beef again, and Jareth savored it happily. He hadn't had another incident where it had disagreed with him since the night he'd injured his Sarah by mistake. -That- certainly would never happen again.  
  
Before he knew it, the bowl was empty, and Sarah leaned over to kiss Jareth on top of his feathery head. "Love ya, sweetie." She gave his neck a pat and stood up, heading out of the room to finish moving things to and from the attic.  
  
Jareth closed his eyes and shivered. Please, please let her forgive him.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
As it happened, Sarah wasn't able to work on the wardrobe until Wednesday. It rained again on Monday, and she had to work at the library on Tuesday. Jareth slept on her bed in the meantime, although he was back on his perch during the night when he was awake. He didn't seem to mind too much, but Karen was not happy about a few messes he'd made on her stepdaughter's sheets, and she was more than happy when Sarah finally had the free time to work on the bird's cage.  
  
Her dad helped her take the big wooden wardrobe out into the yard after school, and after taking a good look at the insides of the doors, she got him to cut out the panels with a buzzsaw. Alex peeked over the fence to see what all the noise was about.  
  
"Hey, what's up, Sar?" Sarah looked up from sanding the newly-sawed edges and smiled.  
  
"Oh, hey Alex. We're making something for Jareth to live in, wanna help?"  
  
"'Jareth'?" Alex repeated as he walked around into Sarah's yard. "Who the hell is 'Jareth'?"  
  
"Right, I forgot to tell you." Sarah slapped her forehead dramatically. "Jareth is what I named that owl."  
  
"You named the owl 'Jareth'? Isn't that the name of that fairytale Troll King you were obsessed over?"  
  
"Goblin King," Sarah corrected, and shrugged. "He took on the form of a barn owl sometimes, so it seemed appropriate enough to me."  
  
"Right." Her neighbour shook his head. "Anyone ever tell you that you're weird?"  
  
"Yeah, you. Constantly." Sarah rolled her eyes. "Are you going to help me sand or not?"  
  
There's something about building things that holds an irresistible appeal for the male half of the species, and Alex was no exception. "Sure, I'll help," he announced, sitting down on the grass and grabbing a piece of sandpaper eagerly. "Just these edges here?"  
  
"Yeah, and sand any rough spots you find on the inside. We already took out most of the shelves, but we haven't sanded where they were yet." Sarah pointed to where she meant and Alex nodded.  
  
"Got it," He nodded. They sanded in silence for a moment. "So what happened that night after you got home, anyway?" He asked.  
  
"Grounded. Karen was pissed." Sarah sighed.  
  
"Aw, man, sorry about that," Alex said. "Guess that one's kinda my fault, huh?"  
  
"Nah, don't worry about it. I wasn't watching the time, either," Sarah reassured him.  
  
"So for how long?" Alex wanted to know. "I kinda wanted to hang out this weekend or something."  
  
"Two more weeks."  
  
"Damn. You're not allowed over or anything?" Alex whined.  
  
"Nope." Sarah shook her head and sanded harder. "I don't think Karen likes you very much."  
  
"Aw, who cares what she thinks? She hasn't even met me before." He paused in his sanding and leaned back. "You let her push you around too much, Sar- bear. She's not even your real mother. Just because your father decided to marry her doesn't mean that she gets to start raising you this far along. You're almost old enough to make all your own decisions as it is."  
  
Sarah paused as well and sat up. "It's not that simple, though. She's got my dad completely wrapped around her finger. He usually agrees with her, which means I have to listen, otherwise I get in trouble from them both. Anyway," she leaned over and resumed sanding, "she's not this bad all the time, she's just been a bitch lately. Must be PMS or something."  
  
"Yeah, no kidding. She won't even let you go out without grounding you for it. What's her problem, anyway?" Alex lit up a cigarette and exhaled a cloud of smoke.  
  
Sarah shrugged. "Beats me. Although her issue with the barbecue was that I skipped out on babysitting Toby."  
  
"Yeah, but you really do need to get out more. You don't have enough fun." Alex insisted.  
  
"So you've told me many times," Sarah sighed and surveyed their work. "I think we're done sanding. Wanna pass me those wire-cutters?"  
  
The work went a lot faster with Alex helping (once he'd finished his smoke), and before Sarah knew it, they were finished. "20 minutes," Sarah announced, glancing at her watch. "Impressive. Want some lemonade?"  
  
"Yeah, hook me up," Alex nodded.  
  
"Okay, wait here, I don't think Karen wants anyone in the house. I'll be right back." Sarah turned and headed inside, making a beeline for the kitchen. Her stepmother was by the sink, cutting up vegetables for the salad.  
  
"Hey," Sarah muttered, getting out two glasses from the cupboard and going to the fridge for the lemonade.  
  
"Are you all finished outside? Make sure you clean up after yourself." Karen instructed. "Oh, and do something about that owl of yours, it's being restless. I could hear it moving around in your room when I went up to check on Toby."  
  
"Right," Sarah poured out the drinks and put the pitcher back in the refrigerator. She headed out of the kitchen, making a face at Karen's back on the way out.  
  
"Jareth?" She poked her head in through the doorway and looked around. The owl hopped out from under her desk and walked up to her on long stilt- like legs. Sarah transferred both drinks to one arm, then crouched down and scratched his head. "Hey, handsome, you exploring my room again? Wanna come outside with me? C'mon, it's gorgeous out." She picked up her owl with her free arm and headed back down the stairs, cradling the warm feathery ball against her chest.  
  
Jareth was more than happy to go along with it. He wasn't deaf; he knew exactly who was waiting for her in the back yard. Just let the brat try anything with his Sarah while he was there.  
  
Alex raised an eyebrow when he saw the bird in Sarah's arms. It sent him a warning glare, and he felt an involuntary shiver run down his spine. That thing looked like it could do some real damage if it wanted to.  
  
"What's with the pillow stuffer?" He joked nervously.  
  
"Oh, cut that out," Sarah scolded. "Here, take one of these before I drop them." Alex reached to take a drink and Jareth hissed at him menacingly.  
  
"Shit." He pulled his hand away. Sarah sighed.  
  
"Now, Jareth, be nice, Alex is a friend. Okay?" She handed Alex a drink as best she could with the other glass balanced in the crook of her arm, while Jareth glared daggers at the boy. "I'm sorry," Sarah said apologetically as they sat down on the porch steps. "I guess he doesn't like you much."  
  
Alex eyed the owl, who was eyeing him back in much the same way one might size up a particularily tasty mouse. "Looks like you're the only one he likes."  
  
"Yeah, but that took a while. He didn't trust me much at first." Sarah patted him fondly. "Changed his mind after my dad and Karen tried to look after him, though."  
  
"Doesn't surprise me. Christ, the little bastard can glare."  
  
Jareth bristled and thrust his wings out threateningly. Had that little piece of trash just insulted him?  
  
"Alex, be nice, he's smart enough to take offense to that." Sarah petted the owl soothingly. "Shhh, it's okay, honey, he didn't mean it, that's just the way he talks. Calm down, sweetie..."  
  
"'Honey'? 'Sweetie'?" Alex snorted. "What, are you planning on marrying the thing? Now I get why you named 'im 'Jareth'. Hey, do you think that if you kiss him, he'll turn into a king?"  
  
"Oh, shut up." Sarah blushed at the teasing.  
  
"Hey, are you the Gremlin King?" Alex poked at Jareth, who snapped his beak at the boy. Alex drew his finger back and made hissing noises back at the enraged owl.  
  
"Geeze, Alex!" Sarah inched away, taking Jareth with her. "Stop being an ass, will you!?"  
  
"Whoa, shit. Chill, Sar, I'm just playing." Alex made a face as the owl snarled at him. "Damned thing's got a temper, too. You sure he's not the real Gremlin King?"  
  
"Goblin King," Sarah corrected again, thoroughly annoyed.  
  
"Whatever. It's him, isn't it?" Alex dripped sarcasm as he eyed the owl skeptically. Jareth awarded him with a superior glare and turned to face the other way. He'd say this much for the little delinquent; he was a lot more intuitive than he looked. Now, if only the whelp would take him seriously, then he might be able to use it to his advantage. Sarah could confirm it, but Jareth doubted that the toad would believe her. Not that it mattered, anyway, as long as Sarah knew better. He could care less what the boy thought.  
  
Then his Sarah said something that shattered his world all over again.  
  
"Geeze, don't be stupid, Alex. He's just an owl..." 


	17. Identity

Okay, okay, I'm updating! n.n *iggles* I've been really busy with a Creative Writing assignment lately and it's been sucking up all my writing time. But I'm posting this chapter now, dun worry. Thanks for all the reviews, I love them all. n.n 3  
  
scorbin80: Darn you and your gallons of ice cream! ^_^ My muse latched onto the mental image and made me draw a depressed-looking chibi Jareth slouched in a big stuffed easychair and surrounded by cartons and cartons of chocolate Haagen Dazs ice cream n.- (he's got one carton on his lap and he's eating out of it with a spoon). I was actually going to hold out until it got scanned and uploaded somewhere so I could toss in a URL, but alas, it's time to update again and the picture remains unscanned. E-mail me or somethin' and I'll send it to you. ^_^ Anyway, enough of my blathering and on with the chapterness. n.n  
  
  
  
Standard disclaimers apply. I'm going to have to stop and be serious for a moment. I hope that no one got the idea from this story that they could treat an injured owl (or any bird of prey, for that matter) by themselves. That was not my intent at all. After all, this is a work of fiction, and circumstances are far from what they'd normally be (I mean, really, the patient is the freaking Gob King). DO NOT try to help an injured raptor yourself. I really can't stress this enough. First of all, it's illegal. Secondly, it's dangerous and you may lose a limb. Thirdly, it will die. There's really no question of this. The chances of it surviving without immediate professional help are so incredibly slim as to be nonexistent. I fell in love with owls while I was doing research for this story, and I'd hate to think that a sick or injured owl wasn't recieving the best possible care. Please, if you happen to find an injured raptor, give the poor critter a break and take it to the professionals so they can fix 'im up proper. ^_^  
  
  
  
Right! *coughs* On with the storyness... n.n  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
There will be no consolation prize  
  
this time the bone is broken clean  
  
no baptism, no reprise and no sweet taste of victory  
  
All the stars have fallen from the sky  
  
And everything else in between  
  
Satellites have closed their eyes  
  
The moon has gone to sleep  
  
Unloved... unloved... unloved... unloved...  
  
  
  
'Unloved' - Jann Arden  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Just an owl!  
  
Jareth sat in the wardrobe, staring blankly at the back wall. He ignored everyone, including Sarah. Especially Sarah.  
  
He felt utterly lost.  
  
Damn it all.  
  
Just an owl. How could he have been so blind? She didn't care about him at all. To her, he was nothing more than a wild animal she had rescued one day. She didn't know, she never had. Would she have even helped him if she had known? He doubted it now.  
  
Just an owl.  
  
Damn her. She'd named him Jareth on a whim. She'd made him believe that she knew it was him. And he'd completely fallen for it, like the colossal fool that he was. He'd fallen for it and he'd fallen for her. Damn him and his foolishness. She'd made him soft, held his heart in her hands and tossed it over her shoulder.  
  
If she'd been after revenge, she'd succeeded frustratingly well. But, of course, she hadn't been. Why would she be? He was just an owl.  
  
And to rub salt in the wound, he couldn't leave. He was locked in. All he wanted to do was get away from here. Away from her. And he couldn't. He had to stay here and let her treat him like a pet. Because that was all he was now. He wasn't a king, he had no kingdom. No powers. No way of telling her who he was. He was just an owl.  
  
A goddamned owl.  
  
Damn it all.  
  
He really couldn't stand it. He wanted to break something. Wanted to yell, to curse and kick his goblins and send someone into the Bog. But of course, he couldn't, unless Sarah wished his powers back. And she wouldn't. She never would. He was just a damned owl. All he could do was sit here and rot.  
  
He'd never felt so bloody frustrated. Not even during the years when his kingdom had been slowly dying. At least then, he'd been able to be there, to slow it's decline as much as he could. He hadn't been as utterly powerless as he was now. He didn't even know how bad it was. For all he knew, it could be gone. That was the worst thing, not knowing. And the only one who could fix it had no idea. It was hopeless, no matter how he looked at it.  
  
He had to get out of here, before he went mad. If only she would forget to lock the door.  
  
Jareth sighed and beat his forehead against the chicken wire. It rattled strangely, and he blinked and looked down. There, down in the corner, the wire was loose.  
  
He hopped down to get a better look. Sure enough, one of the heavy-duty staples which held the wire to the frame hadn't quite gone in all the way. Jareth hooked his beak into the tiny space, braced his feet against the frame, and pulled. At first, all the staple did was bend. Then it came out abruptly, sending Jareth tumbling onto his back.  
  
He scrambled to his feet and tugged at the wire. The opening it made was far too small, but it was a start. He clawed and scraped at the next staple, determined to escape now. It was more difficult to get at, but after much scratching (and a splinter in one toe), he managed to pull it out as well.  
  
Three more staples, and he was able to squeeze through the opening. The chicken wire was bent in towards him, and some of the sharp ends sliced shallow gashes into his back and wings as he brushed past them, but he didn't care. He was free.  
  
He glanced about the room quickly. Sarah was off somewhere with that little slime from next door, in direct disobedience to her stepmother's wishes. Leave it to her to defy everyone. She'd snuck out through her window and shimmied down the tree to avoid being caught, and she'd left the window wide open, presumably to get back in by the same route.  
  
For once, something was going his way. His original plan for revenge was to make her grow fond of him and then leave her. Abandon her like she'd abandoned him. He'd deliberately shown as much affection towards her as possible, in the hopes that she would form one of those silly attachments that mortals tended to harbor towards animals, thus making his revenge all the sweeter. That was, until he discovered that he -wanted- her to love him, because he loved her. And it seemed that she did, before.  
  
But that was before. Now he wanted revenge again. And there was no time like the present.  
  
He hopped over to the bed, pulling himself up the edge of the blanket and onto the mattress. From there, all he had to do was hop onto the bedside table and climb onto the windowsill. He peered out into the night. There was no sign of anyone. All he needed to do was get onto the tree and climb down.  
  
Jareth hesitated. The nearest branch was a good foot away. It extended off of the large, thick branch that Sarah used, and while she could reach it easily, Jareth had to settle for the smaller, less sturdy branch. He was unsure that it would support his weight. If he fell, then that was it.  
  
Then again, if the alternative was staying here, he was willing to take the risk. He took a deep breath and jumped.  
  
He very nearly missed. One foot grasped a cluster of leaves and he hung upside-down, while the branch bounced and sagged dangerously. Jareth grabbed on with his other foot and flapped his wings, but that only made the branch dip down lower. He stopped moving and dangled.  
  
Not one of his better ideas, he noted. But then again, nothing had been going right for him for the last century, so he really ought to have gotten used to it by now. He shook off that depressing thought and turned his attention back to the problem at hand.  
  
He hooked his beak onto the branch and attempted to right himself, but the tree limb jumped so wildly that he nearly lost his grip. Maybe he should move up the branch first, where it was sturdier. He started to inch over when he heard a familiar gasp from the window and turned his head to look at Sarah. When had she gotten back? Damnit, she must have gone in through the door instead.  
  
"Jareth," She blinked in surprise. "How did you get out?"  
  
Jareth quashed the urge to go to her and looked away, moving along the branch. He was -not- going to let her charm him again!  
  
"Oh, no, no, don't go!" She yelped, stretching out to try and grab him. The branch was dipping too low and she couldn't reach. "Come back, sweetie..." she begged.  
  
Jareth ignored her. He was almost there...  
  
"Please, don't go," Sarah whispered, biting her knuckles anxiously. She was terrified that he was going to fall off, the way he was hanging upside down like that. He looked too heavy to stay like that for long. And even if he didn't, he still wasn't in any sort of shape to survive if he escaped. She felt queasy inside, worried for his safety.  
  
Jareth got close to the main limb where she would have been able to reach him, but he eased his way along the bottom to avoid her grasp. Almost there, almost there...  
  
"C'mon, c'mere, sweetie..." Sarah tried again. It was no use. He was out of her reach now. If she climbed out onto the branch, she'd shake him right off. She just had to hope that he made it down safely, and then take a flashlight and pray that he was still in the yard where she could find him. 'Please', she thought, 'please don't fall...'  
  
Jareth continued to cling to the bottom of the big tree limb, inching his way to the trunk. The sound of a muffled sob reached his ears and he paused.  
  
Hesitating was his first mistake. Looking back was his second.  
  
Sarah was crying. She was actually crying. "Jareth, come back," she pleaded in a quivering voice. Tears shone on her cheeks in the moonlight, and Jareth felt a wave of guilt slam into him. She looked so utterly heartbroken at the idea of him leaving that his resolve melted away.  
  
Damn her wide-eyed innocence. He sighed and pulled himself up to stand on the top half of the branch, walking over to where she could reach him. Sarah snatched him up immediately, hurrying away from the window and hugging him in relief.  
  
"Don't ever scare me like that again!" Her bottom lip trembled. Jareth sighed and looked away. Damn him and his soft spot for her. She wouldn't say such things if she knew that it was him. She only loved him as a naive, helpless bird that needed her. He should have left long ago, before she wormed her way back into his heart. Before he needed her.  
  
How he wished he could hate her.  
  
Damn it all.  
  
He felt so very lost. He'd been in this form for far too long. He had lost track of who he was. How could he expect her to know him when he couldn't even recognize himself anymore?  
  
He'd known who he was before all this. He was Jareth, the Goblin King. Arrogant, proud, powerful. Ruler over the Labyrinth and all it's denizens. A being of magic, of mystery. Someone not to be taken lightly, nor overlooked. Someone who had survived many a hardship and found a way to come out on top, to survive and recover. Someone in control, someone who needn't rely on anyone but himself.  
  
Or so he'd thought.  
  
Now he was just an owl.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah was at a complete loss. It seemed that, no matter what she tried, her owl suddenly wanted nothing to do with her.  
  
She really couldn't think of an explanation for it. He'd been this way ever since Alex had been teasing him. For some reason, though, Sarah felt sure that it wasn't that at all.  
  
She'd thought that it might have been the wardrobe, but he acted just as coldly towards her when she took him out of it for awhile. He didn't appear to be sick, his wings were healing normally, and she wasn't changing his diet or treating him any differently.  
  
It was as if he just didn't care all of a sudden. While he still tolerated her picking him up, he gave the impression that he'd rather be left alone altogether. His appetite had diminished, and he didn't seem to want to do anything, other than stare at the wall and mope.  
  
Sarah was worried and confused. It wasn't like him at all. Something was definitely wrong with him. Was it something she might have said? She really couldn't think of anything that might have caused him to become so apathetic, unless he'd decided that he no longer liked being called 'sweetie'.  
  
No, Sarah decided, that wasn't it either.  
  
She found herself in the Natural Sciences section at work one afternoon, combing through the animal books. She was off for today, but she wanted to take a look anyway. There was a half dozen or so books on nocturnal birds of prey in general, and a few more focusing on barn owls in particular. She wasn't sure if they would be any help at all, but she'd run out of ideas, aside from taking him to the vet. And that was a last resort only.  
  
She grabbed her stack of books and headed for an empty table. Taking a seat, she began flipping through the first book on the pile for something useful. She skipped the section on anatomy and turned to the part about behaviour.  
  
Sarah read a line and frowned. According to this, barn owls hated sunlight and were strictly nocturnal. That was ridiculous. Her owl was awake during the day all the time. True, he was active mostly at night, but that didn't stop him from doing things during daylight hours as well. She shook her head and turned the page.  
  
She was about to toss it aside and reach for the next book when she came to a section entitled 'What to do for an injured Raptor'. Curious, she started reading.  
  
'The first thing to recognize is that the raptor will not understand that you are trying to help it. It is conditioned by instinct, training, and usually experience to look on humans as enemies, as much to be feared as the danger from which you have rescued it. Possibly, on a subconscious level, a bird of prey is aware of the difference between the hands of a friend or foe. This may or may not be true; however, what IS true is that an injured wild animal operates from the instinctual level and, on that level, it reacts out of fear. Fear and pain.'  
  
Sarah nodded to herself. She'd learned that one first-hand.  
  
'The second thing to assume is that the raptor will be in shock, both from the original cause of its injury or trauma, and from being handled by you. And, like with any human accident victim, shock can kill. Eliminating extra stressors and alleviating shock, therefore, are the first priorities. A bird like an owl, small falcon or hawk that seems content to sit on your arm is in shock. As nice as it is to assume it knows you are trying to help, it is far more likely to be simply hiding the fact that it is paralyzed with fear.'  
  
Sarah rubbed the back of her neck and stretched. Most of what was here was information that she'd already learned through experience. She flipped the page and skimmed down until she found something she didn't know already.  
  
'Before attempting to rehabilitate any owl, hawk or eagle, there are several serious considerations, those being 1) Legal Issues, and 2) Medical and Dietary Issues. Possession of any native species of bird in the United States, for any purpose, is prohibited by law unless the individual is licensed for that particular reason. Rehabilitators must be licensed by the Department of the Interior, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and any applicable state wildlife or conservation agency.'  
  
Sarah blinked. No one had told her that it was illegal. If Karen talked to the vet, Jareth would be taken away for sure. She shook off the uneasy feeling forming in the pit of her stomach and read on.  
  
'In the case of caring for a bird, many routine procedures require knowledge beyond that possessed by the general public, regardless of their interest or willing. For example, injured birds are frequently suffering from shock and dehydration, as well as starvation. If they are to survive, they must immediately receive special fluid diets to reduce shock and assist in re-hydration. This requires the skill of a trained, experienced person, frequently with the assistance of a professional veterinarian. Often, bones must be set, wounds mended and antibiotics administered. As well, all raptors require special diets, particularly sick or injured ones. NEVER feed an injured bird. The dietary needs of raptors are more delicately balanced than many people realize. Even the best imaginable steak will not provide the bird with what it needs. Also, most injured birds are suffering from dehydration, and attempting to feed or water the bird may kill it, as it is probably not yet able to digest solid food or even plain water.'  
  
Sarah flipped to the front of the book for the publication date. 1985. Fairly new. She shook her head and tossed the book aside. That last paragraph was a load of crap. They were obviously writing it straight from a vet textbook, because it had the better-safe-than-sorry tone that one heard a lot of in school. If any of it were true, her owl would be dead a million times over. She hadn't thought to find a library book at the time, and hardly anything she'd done was what this book suggested. The people who wrote this publication didn't know what they were talking about. Either it was wrong, or her owl was some sort of unnatural freak. But that was ridiculous. He was just an owl like any other.  
  
Just to prove it to herself, she searched through the rest of the books for another one which outlined rescue methods and settled down to read it.  
  
Sarah emerged from the library an hour later and started heading home. It was absolutely gorgeous out. The sun was just starting to set in spite of the late hour, as was typical of early June. The grass was a rich green, the sky was a stunning azure and the few whisps of clouds which dotted the sky were highlighted in oranges and pinks. The cool evening temperature was mild and refreshing. It was the sort of night meant to be spent outdoors, playing catch or lounging out on the deck with a few friends and some drinks.  
  
Sarah didn't even notice.  
  
How was it possible? her mind asked over and over. The remainder of the books not only supported the first, they also went into detail about -why- a certain procedure was important, or how the wrong conditions endangered the bird. They had all said the exact same thing! If they were to be believed (and Sarah had lost her doubts in light of the sheer logic of the explanations), then her owl should have been dead within days of being rescued. Perhaps hours. She'd done almost everything wrong, and yet he was recovering at a rate which, according to one book, was actually much faster than normal.  
  
Also, according to what she'd read, barn owls were something of a unique breed. Unlike most other birds, they could not survive in the wild after living in captivity. Even attempts by professional rehabbers to introduce captive birds into the wild were often met with failure. They simply had to grow up in their natural habitat to be able to survive there at all. They relied less on instinct, and they needed to figure out how to take care of themselves as fledglings, or they'd never learn. And even then, they only had about a 20% chance of even surviving to adulthood. The idea of a tame barn owl living in the wild was nothing short of absurd.  
  
It was true what they said; ignorance really was bliss.  
  
She quickened her pace, mulling over this new discovery. There were simply too many inconsistencies to ignore. Something was definitely wrong with this picture, and it was nothing like what she'd expected. Not even close.  
  
By the time she walked in the front door, she'd figured it out. She almost wanted to laugh at the irony. Almost. She barely acknowledged her parents as she headed up the stairs.  
  
There was something different in the girl's pace that made Jareth curious enough to shake off his indifference and see what was wrong. She came in through the bedroom door moments later, and he was immediately aware that something had happened.  
  
Her entire demeanor had altered drastically. Her steps were wary and uncertain. Eyes that once looked at him with such open adoration now held suspicion and a sense of betrayal. And he knew instantly. Knew, by what he saw in her eyes, that she knew. There was no mistaking the recognition, the accusation in those cold sable pools. It was painfully clear than she never would have loved him if she'd known from the start.  
  
She walked over and stopped in front of him. For a moment, she merely stood there and looked at him.  
  
"I know who you are," Sarah announced at last, her tone distant and unforgiving. "You're the Goblin King."  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
One more thing before ya go, the information that Sarah read at the end of the chapter is mostly pieced together from excerpts gotten off of a page called 'Barn Owl Headquarters' (http://members.tripod.com/Tommy51/index.html ). Almost every sentence is re-worded ever-so-slightly to make it fit better with the story, but it's basically the same. Used without permission. (yeah, so I was lazy... it was late, I was tired, my editor was nagging me to finish the chapter and send it to her already... Sue me. n.n;; No, wait, don't sue me, don't! O.o;; *hides*) Hey, I ain't making a profit and it's education for the masses. n.- 


	18. Changes

Ick. I don't know about you all, but I didn't enjoy that lovely hiatus one bit. I've completley lost my drive to write this story. Luckily, however, I've pre-written chapter 19 as well, so hopefully I can shovel out chapter 20 in time to post it more or less on time. Anyway, enjoy. n.n() I also couldn't think of a good title for this one, so blah.  
  
Disc: Bah.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Jareth glared at Sarah defiantly. Of all the rotten timing, she had to have chosen -now- to have figured it out. She didn't appear very happy to have made the discovery, either.  
  
And she was just standing there, watching him. Obviously waiting for something. He shifted irritably. What did she expect him to do? Confirm it? Say "yes, Sarah, I am the Goblin King"? She was in for a disappointment if that was the case.  
  
"Well?" She asked finally. "You are him, aren't you?" Jareth leaned forward and regarded her coldly, as if to say 'what do you think?', and Sarah took a step back. "What do you want? Are you after Toby again?" She hated the way her voice shook at that last question.  
  
Jareth sniffed haughtily. So it was back to this, was it? He would not have dignified that one with a response, even if he -could- have made one.  
  
Sarah felt frustration welling up inside her. "Damnit, say something!" He was just sitting there, acting so annoyingly owl-ish. As if he could ever play the innocent now. It -was- him, she was sure of it. All the little clues clicked into place now. She was amazed that she hadn't realized it sooner. No normal owl could have possibly survived even half of what he'd been through. It just wasn't possible.  
  
And now he was going to insult her intelligence by continuing with this little charade? Of all the arrogant, selfish, stuck-up... Well, two could play at this game, she decided. "Fine, if you won't speak up, then I'll just have to stop feeding you until you're forced to admit who you are." She flipped her hair over one shoulder and left the room.  
  
Jareth let out the breath that he had been holding. This wasn't good. He could starve, and she wouldn't even realize that it wasn't an act until she found him dead. She may choose to wish him out of this dilemma in some way or another, but he didn't like having to rely on that. It was risky, and he'd already lost too much by taking unnecessary gambles. It probably didn't matter what he thought of the situation, however. He had very little choice but to leave things in the hands of fate at this point.  
  
He heard the back door slam below, and the soft sound of Sarah's footfalls on the grass. From the sound of it, she was heading next door. 'Running to him, are you, Sarah?' He sighed and turned to face the wall.  
  
She would never help him, and he was a fool to have thought that she would have. He knew that now. Perhaps it would have been better if he'd been killed by that horned owl. Or turned over to the animal healers and given a painless death. Either situation would have been preferable to being trapped here, condemned to die unless Sarah took pity on him. And now that she had convinced herself that he could survive without her help, he could expect no mercy. If only she still thought of him as an owl. He would have had care, affection, a chance to think of a way out of this.  
  
All this time, he had been clinging to the belief that she knew. Now he wished that she had never found out.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah fled from her house, ignoring her father's protests. She had to get out.  
  
She was halfway across the yard before it finally sunk in. Jareth was here. THE Jareth. The Goblin King. Her rival. In her house. Posing as a normal owl for the last month. She couldn't stop the tears from welling up as she climbed Alex's front steps and reached for the doorbell.  
  
Posing as an owl. Her owl. But no, he really wasn't her owl, was he? He wasn't -her- Jareth, he was the real Goblin King. Staying at her house, probably scheming right in front of her the entire time. Had he been laughing at her as she held him in her arms? How could she feel any love for the little creature now? He wasn't an innocent animal at all. He was a cunning, deceitful, manipulative bastard, and he'd managed to fool her completely. She'd -trusted- him completely.  
  
No, she'd trusted the barn owl completely. The Goblin King was a different story entirely.  
  
She felt so used.  
  
How dare he...  
  
"Sarah?" Alex opened the door and looked at her tear-streaked face. Sarah's lip trembled and she threw her arms around Alex's neck. The boy patted her back in confusion. "Sar, what's wrong?"  
  
Sarah shook her head and pulled away. "Nothing. I... I can't explain."  
  
"Err... okay." Alex didn't seem very satisfied by that answer, but he shrugged and swung the door wide open. "Wanna come on in?" Sarah nodded and stepped inside.  
  
"Want anything to drink? Milk, hot chocolate, beer?" Alex asked, heading towards the kitchen.  
  
"Just milk's fine." Sarah pulled off her shoes and followed him.  
  
"One of these days I'm gonna get you to try alcohol," he told her, getting a glass out of the cupboard and going to the fridge for the milk. Sarah wrinkled her nose.  
  
"You got me to try beer at the barbecue, remember? I had a sip of yours."  
  
"Oh, right," Alex nodded and grabbed a beer for himself. "And you thought that it tasted like rat piss."  
  
"Well, I didn't put it that way, but yes," Sarah agreed, accepting the milk that Alex handed her and following him down into the basement.  
  
"Wanna play Zelda again?" Alex headed towards the TV.  
  
Sarah was tempted, but she wasn't really in a game mood. "Nah, that's okay. Maybe we could watch a movie? I kinda just want to stare at a screen for awhile."  
  
"Sounds good." Alex pulled a tape from the shelf and popped it in the VCR. "Evil Dead?"  
  
"Never seen it, but sure." Sarah made herself comfortable on the couch and sipped her milk, and Alex hit play and joined her a moment later.  
  
Sarah started to watch the movie, but she couldn't really get into it. She was far too preoccupied with the Goblin King. It was easier to forget him when he was far away, but when he was right in her house? Not likely.  
  
She glared at the TV screen absently. She still couldn't believe that he'd completely fooled her into believing that he was an innocent owl. She should have known better! He'd taken advantage of her compassion to get into her house and put himself in a position to spy on her and her family. God only knew what he'd been plotting, what he was planning to do to them. She was angry at herself for walking right into it. Angry and scared.  
  
She thought back to earlier and mentally kicked herself. Maybe it would have been smarter to pretend she didn't know for awhile longer, if only to delay whatever he was going to do now that he was discovered. She could have prepared herself, been ready for it. She should have thought ahead, but she'd been so determined to confront him that she'd just gone ahead and rushed in. She wasn't going to go back on her promise now, though. He knew now that she knew, and there was no point in keeping up this little facade.  
  
Sarah sighed. Maybe he would just leave sooner, now that she wasn't playing his game any more. He had no power over her, right? As long as she didn't let him get the upper hand, he really couldn't do much. This was -her- turf, after all.  
  
Assuming, of course, that he didn't have the upper hand already. She had no way of knowing.  
  
She was so preoccupied with her line of thought that she never noticed when Alex first snuck his arm around her shoulders, then his hand on her knee. His kiss caught her completely off-guard.  
  
At first she was too surprised to do anything but sit there. She hadn't even seen it coming. Then several things registered. She'd dropped her glass and spilled what was left of her milk on her leg, and it was soaking through her jeans. Alex reeked of beer, and when he forced his tongue into her mouth, it was alcohol-flavoured. Sarah wondered how many he'd had before she'd decided to come over. She finally regained her senses and shoved him away.  
  
"Alex! Get off of me!" She moved to the end of the couch and gave him a wounded glare. "Jeez, what did you think you were doing!?"  
  
"Aw, c'mon, Sar," Alex snorted. "I thought I made it pretty damned obvious that I like you."  
  
"Yeah, as a friend!" Sarah exclaimed. "Where on earth did this come from?"  
  
"What are you talking about? Sarah..." Alex leaned towards her and she backed away. He sighed. "Christ, Sar, I've always liked you. Why the hell did you think I was always bugging you to get out of your room and do stuff?"  
  
"I thought you wanted to be friends again!" Sarah eyed Alex nervously.  
  
"Oh, come on, Sar." Alex gave her a condescending look. "We've known each other for years. We practically grew up together. I think we're past the friends stage."  
  
"I don't," Sarah protested. "I only -like- you as a friend, Alex!"  
  
"Hell, you're not even giving me a chance!" Alex's voice rose in anger, and Sarah flinched away.  
  
"I'm sorry..." she said quickly. "I think I'd better go."  
  
"Hey, don't walk out on me!" Alex grabbed her wrist roughly as she got up to leave. "You can't leave now! I'm not finished yet!"  
  
"Ow! Alex!" Sarah struggled, trying to yank free. "Let go, you're hurting me!"  
  
"You're not going, Sarah!" Alex shouted.  
  
"Leave me alone!" Sarah dug her nails into his forearm until he loosened his grip. He grabbed her hair as she broke away, and she whimpered.  
  
"I said to stay here, you bitch!" He snarled. Sarah brought her knee up sharply and he doubled over, clutching himself in pain and coughing. Sarah turned and ran up the stairs.  
  
"Sarah, wait!" She heard him call from the basement. "Come back, I'm sorry!" He came hobbling up just as she was pulling on her loafers. "Don't go!" There was a hint of desperation in his voice.  
  
"Just stay away from me, Alex!" Sarah cried, throwing the front door open and hurrying out.  
  
She slammed it behind her and ran. She didn't head home, she just ran. Ran from Alex, ran from Karen, ran from Jareth. Ran from everything that was changing so suddenly in her life. Nothing made sense any more. She ran until she was out of breath, and then she collapsed onto the curb and cried.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
She was standing on a ledge, overlooking a vast plane of whiteness. It was almost like a sea of fog, like seeing the inside of a cloud. It was a sort of nothingness, and yet there was nothing terribly menacing about it. It was pure, unsullied. A clean slate.  
  
Jareth was standing there beside her, gazing out into the unfathomable blankness. For a while, neither of them spoke.  
  
"Sarah, I need your help," he admitted at last.  
  
"What?" Sarah blinked in surprise. "My help?"  
  
"Yes. To rectify what has been done." He turned to face her, and his steady gaze bored into her. Sarah shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"What has been done...? I don't understand..."  
  
"No, of course you don't." Jareth smiled coldly. "You never did understand, did you?" Sarah bristled.  
  
"Well, maybe if you'd explain it to me instead of speaking in riddles!" She snapped. The whiteness seemed to take on a more menacing atmosphere, and it crackled with energy. She ignored it and glared at him. What was he up to now?  
  
"I thought I was being quite plain, Sarah." He looked bored.  
  
"Yeah, well not plain enough, because I still don't understand. Why don't you just go terrorize more young girls and leave me alone? I don't want you around."  
  
"I really don't have much choice in the matter, Sarah." Jareth snapped tersely.  
  
"Well then, pull that stick out of your ass and kindly enlighten me instead of strutting around like an arrogant jerk."  
  
Jareth gritted his teeth angrily. "I tire of this defiance from you, Sarah. Must you make everything difficult? As I've already told you, I need your help."  
  
"Oh? Like hell you do." She jabbed him in the chest with her finger. "What are you plotting, Jareth?"  
  
"I'm plotting nothing."  
  
"Bull shit. You're always up to something. Don't think you can fool me, you asshole. Why would you even need my help at all?" Sarah demanded "Why don't you just use your big bad Goblin King powers to get yourself out of whatever mess you're in!?"  
  
"Because I don't have them!" Jareth snapped. "You do!"  
  
The silence that followed was deafening.  
  
"What?" Sarah asked in a quieter tone.  
  
"I said," Jareth lowered his voice as well, "you have my powers, Sarah."  
  
"I don't follow you."  
  
Jareth sighed. "You've had them since you defeated me. Since before then, really, but only a part of them, which I could have taken back at any time. Now you have all of them, and I am powerless, Sarah."  
  
Sarah was staring at him, uncomprehending. "I don't believe you," she said at last. "This is some sort of trick."  
  
Jareth nearly laughed. "What reason would I have to trick you now, Sarah? That game is over. I do not consider us to be rivals any longer. What could I possibly hope to gain, aside from what I've said?"  
  
"Revenge," Sarah answered without hesitation.  
  
"Revenge?" Jareth repeated, amused. "I've tried that already, dear Sarah. There is very little I can do in the form of an owl. I thought I'd make you love me and then leave you, but I couldn't even do that much." His voice lost its lightly mocking tone. "I have long since grown weary of this new game, Sarah. I do not wish for us to remain enemies any longer."  
  
"Then you never should have taken my brother," Sarah shot back automatically.  
  
"Then you should have never wished for me to take him!" Jareth exploded. "Am I to be forever punished for your thoughtlessness!?" He paced around her once more, while she shrank from the glare he was shooting at her. "You continually cast me as the villain and don't pause to think of how I did nothing but what you wanted of me. I am tired of suffering because you refuse to let go of the past."  
  
He stopped behind her and she turned to face him. His shoulders sagged, his proud demeanor was gone. He looked crestfallen, anguished, so very tired. Without thinking, Sarah reached forward and brushed one of his cheekbones with her fingers. Jareth's eyes fell shut at the contact, and it only added to his bone-weary expression.  
  
"Don't fight me anymore, Sarah," he pleaded in a whisper.  
  
Sarah noticed that her hand was shaking, and she drew it back quickly. She had realized a long time ago that he had only been doing what she asked him to, but she had also assumed that he had thoroughly enjoyed it. He hadn't given her any reason to believe otherwise when she had challenged his labyrinth, up until their final encounter, and that had only been a last desperate attempt to win, hadn't it?  
  
"Please, Sarah..."  
  
Sarah backed away, confused. He -had- been this way in the end, hadn't he? She shook her head in denial. It was too much, too soon.  
  
"What must I do to convince you?" Jareth sighed, taking her movement as a refusal. He looked so sad. "I've tried everything I could think of without success. Tell me what you want, Sarah."  
  
Sarah opened her mouth to reply, then closed it again when she realized that she didn't know what to say. What -did- she want?  
  
Thunder rumbled from somewhere off in the distance. He was watching her, waiting for an answer. Sarah shifted uncomfortably.  
  
"I..." she began, and then her mouth went dry and she had to stop. Jareth was staring at her intently, silently prompting her to continue. She cleared her throat and tried again. "I want-"  
  
The sound of glass shattering jolted her awake before she could finish.  
  
Sarah bolted upright in bed and looked around wildly. Bits of her window littered the floor, a rock the size of her fist lying amidst the mess. She blinked and threw the covers aside, scrambling over to the window to peer out. Whoever had thrown that rock was long gone by the time she got there, but Sarah could hazard a guess as to who it had been.  
  
"Sarah!?" Her father and Karen were in her doorway moments later. "What happened!?" Her father asked.  
  
"Are you alright, Sarah?" Karen sounded genuinely concerned.  
  
"I...I'm fine," Sarah stuttered. "Someone threw a rock through the window."  
  
"I'll call the police," Robert said, and left the room.  
  
"Can I get you anything? Some tea or something?" Karen asked. Sarah nodded dumbly and followed her stepmother down to the kitchen.  
  
She sat in silence as Karen prepared some tea and made small talk, trying to take her stepdaughter's mind off of things. The police arrived and took a report, and then Sarah grabbed an extra blanket from the linen closet and headed into the living room to curl up on the couch.  
  
After a half hour of trying to get comfortable and staring at the ceiling, it became fairly obvious that she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep. Her thoughts kept turning back to the night's events.  
  
She already knew that it had probably been Alex who had broken the window. No doubt he was angry about what had happened a few days ago, and chances were that he'd gotten drunk again and decided to vent some frustration. Sarah had to admit that she'd never seen it coming, although she really should have. Alex wasn't exactly the most stable person she knew. He definitely had anger management issues.  
  
But it wasn't the fight with Alex or the broken window that wouldn't let her sleep. It was the dream she'd been having.  
  
'Tell me what you want, Sarah...' Jareth's last question haunted her. She wasn't quite sure what she wanted from him. She'd known in her dream, just before she woke up, but now it was gone, out of her reach once more. She remembered the rest of the dream, however, and what was more, she could recall previous dreams she'd had. It was funny how remembering one dream could trigger someone into remembering any other dreams that were related to it.  
  
Sarah sighed and got up, heading towards the kitchen. She was always coming here when she couldn't sleep for one reason or another, and that seemed to be happening more and more lately. She made herself another cup of tea and sat at the kitchen table to mull it over. The dreams had her confused. She knew, in the back of her mind, that they weren't just something her subconscious had come up with. And if they were any indication, the situation was far different from what she'd though. Sarah felt more than a little guilty. Jareth had been trying to tell her something all along, and she'd only just realized it now.  
  
And she felt really bad for him, now. He may have been her rival in the past, but she'd never wished him harm, really, and for something like this to happen to him was just awful. She sympathized with him, no matter how much she'd fought against him before. Maybe his behaviour hadn't just been an act. Maybe he hadn't been faking anything. The attack by that other owl, the mistreatment... maybe it wouldn't have killed him (and she wasn't sure whether it could have or not... she had no idea if that was included in his loss of powers), but it was still a horrible thing to have to go through. If what he'd told her in her dream was true, and he had no powers left, then he really wasn't much better off than a normal owl.  
  
Sarah felt a cold ball of worry settle into the pit of her stomach. A normal owl... and she hadn't fed him in days.  
  
She didn't quite remember grabbing the Ziploc bag full of meat scraps from the fridge or rushing upstairs, although she stubbed her toe somewhere along the way. Jareth lifted his head from the ledge to look at her as she came rushing in. She unlocked the wardrobe and threw the door open, then tore open the bag and stuffed a chunk of meat into his beak. Jareth nearly choked on it and backed away from her.  
  
"Oh, Jareth, I'm sorry," she was murmuring softly, moving to cram another piece of meat down his gullet. Jareth pulled back, and she blinked and slowed down, holding it out to him instead. He swallowed the first scrap of meat and snatched the next from her fingers greedily. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she repeated, over and over like a mantra.  
  
She tossed the empty bag aside and reached in carefully to scratch his neck, but he ducked away and glared at her wearily. He was still angry at her for wounding his pride, it seemed. She pulled her hand away and brought her chair over, sitting in it and watching him. She sighed.  
  
"I did some thinking," she began. He bobbed his head and gave her a questioning look. Well, she had his attention, at least. She couldn't believe she was doing this. She would never have given an inch if she'd been facing him in his other form. But he was small, and vulnerable, and completely at her mercy. And he just didn't seem as intimidating now. She heaved another sigh. 'Here goes nothing', she thought. "Well, actually, I did a lot of thinking." She looked up and met his curious gaze. "And, well..." She fidgeted. "I've decided to help you, after all."  
  
Jareth's hard glare softened, and he slumped down. He looked relieved and exhausted, like someone who'd just won a great struggle. He let out something very close to a whimper as she reached in again and stroked his feathers. They stayed like that for a moment, while a cool breeze blew in through the broken window pane. Sarah dropped her hand and looked out at the stars.  
  
"But I don't know how.." she sighed. 


	19. Disaster

WARNING: The following chapter has been known to cause restlessness, insomnia, irrational frustration, and homicidal urges towards the authoress. Please exercise caution while reading. You have been warned. n.-  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
There was a strange white van parked in Sarah's driveway when she got home from school on Friday. She paused to study it for a moment before heading inside, wondering who could be visiting.  
  
"Sarah, is that you?" Karen's voice came from the kitchen as Sarah walked in the door.  
  
"Yeah, it's me," Sarah replied, dropping her bag onto the floor and rolling her tired shoulders.  
  
"Could you come here for a moment?" Her stepmother commanded tersely.  
  
"Yeah, just a sec." Sarah finished pulling off her shoes and dropped them onto the mat, then headed towards where Karen was, puzzling over what was going on. She had the strangest feeling that something wasn't right. She found Karen sitting at the table, waiting for her and looking none too pleased. Dr. Trapp was with her.  
  
Sarah stopped dead in her tracks. Her mouth went dry and her stomach suddenly felt like lead.  
  
Oh, shit...  
  
"Sarah, sit down. We need to have a talk," Dr. Trapp said. Sarah complied, feeling numb. She couldn't believe this was happening... "Can I assume by the way you're acting that you know why I'm here?" he continued, noting the expression on her face. Sarah nodded and hugged her arms, looking anywhere but at the other people at the table.  
  
"You're here about Jareth, aren't you?"  
  
"That's what she's named it," Karen supplied when the vet gave her a questioning look. She turned to her stepdaughter, her eyes flashing angrily. "Honestly, if I'd known that it was illegal for you to be taking care of that thing, I never would have let you set foot in the house with it!"  
  
"Did you know that it was illegal to try and care for an owl without a license, Sarah?" Dr. Trapp asked. Sarah nodded again, feeling hot tears welling up.  
  
"But I only just found out," she muttered weakly.  
  
"I see." The veterinarian set laced fingers on the table in front of him and sighed. "Well, Sarah, we're not going to press charges this time, but you really should have handed the barn owl over as soon as you found it. I'm disappointed that you lied and said that you needed the information for a writing assignment."  
  
"What?" Karen glared at Sarah. "That is completely unacceptable, young lady!"  
  
"He said that they were going to put him down!" Sarah said in her defense.  
  
"Regardless, the laws on this are very clear, Sarah. You should have told me." The doctor sighed again. "I won't lie to you. Going by what your mother told me about the animal's condition when you found him, we probably would have put it down. We would have done our best if we thought it could have been saved, but when it's that severe we usually just try to make sure it doesn't suffer. Quite frankly, I'm amazed that it's still alive now. You need to let us take it to a center so that it can be given proper treatment."  
  
"It's not happy here, Sarah," Karen interjected.  
  
"In all likelihood, it will probably stay at the center for educational purposes. It can't survive in the wild now. I doubt we'll end up putting it down, though," the vet added.  
  
"No!" Sarah shook her head vehemently, standing up and backing towards the entranceway. "No, you can't do this!" She stopped before she said 'he IS happy here'. No, of course he wasn't. He didn't want to be here. He wanted to go home. But here was better than away at a center! "He wouldn't like it there," she insisted. "He'd rather stay here!"  
  
"I can tell you for a fact that it's not happy, Sarah. It may seem docile, but it's out of it's natural environment, and it's scared and miserable." Dr. Trapp stated flatly.  
  
There was a thump from upstairs, and Sarah was suddenly aware of the faint sound of voices. Coming from her room. She spun around and flew up the stairs, heedless of Karen's protests. She could hear Jareth hissing angrily as she reached the top, and a female voice was telling someone to hold him steady.  
  
"Get away from him!" Sarah lunged at the woman who was about to inject Jareth with something. The back of her mind recognized Angela, Dr. Trapp's assistant. "Put him down!" Angela dropped the needle and almost lost her balance.  
  
"Sarah!" Karen burst into the room, with Dr. Trapp behind her. "Stop this right now!"  
  
"No!" Sarah cried as her stepmother and the doctor hauled her back. "Let me go! Jareth!" Angela retrieved her needle and inserted it into the barn owl's neck. A moment later, he stopped struggling. "NO!" Sarah screamed. "What did you do to him!? Let me GO!"  
  
"Relax," Angela soothed, "all I did was inject him with a sedative so he won't hurt himself on the way to the Rehab center. He's fine."  
  
"He doesn't want to go there, he wants to stay HERE!" Sarah insisted angrily.  
  
"Sarah, I think you're overreacting." Karen stated firmly. "Remember what you agreed to before about giving him up without an argument."  
  
"I only agreed to give him up if he attacked someone again, and he hasn't! Hey!" She added as Angela and her companion headed for the door. "Stop! No!"  
  
Sarah struggled to get away as the door of her room slammed shut. After a moment, she broke free from her stepmother's and Dr. Trapp's grip and ran out after the two assistants. By the time she got to the front door, they had slammed the van doors shut and started the engine. She sank to the pavement and sobbed into her hands as the van pulled out.  
  
"No... Jareth..." she whimpered. They had taken him. They had really taken him, and she'd probably never see him again.  
  
Her shoulders shook as she cried harder, and she ignored the two adults who caught up to her and started scolding her for her behaviour. After awhile, Dr. Trapp got into his car and drove away, and Karen left her stepdaughter outside with a shake of her head.  
  
"Hey Sar, what's wrong? Lose your Prince Charming?" Sarah lifted her head and looked up. Alex was sitting on his front steps, wearing a dirty wife- beater and a pair of old black sweatpants with a hole in one knee. He crushed the end of his cigarette on one step and gave her a cheeky smirk.  
  
Sarah got to her feet and walked over. Alex's expression didn't change as she drew near, and he lifted his head cockily in response to her venomous glare.  
  
"You ratted me out, didn't you?" Her tone of voice could have curdled milk. Alex shrank back in spite of himself.  
  
"So what if I did?" He challenged. "Payback's a bitch, isn't it?"  
  
Sarah's already-furious gaze darkened. Without a word, she drew her fist back and slammed it into the boy's face. Alex reeled, holding his nose as blood dripped out.  
  
"Asshole," Sarah spat. Alex sat there in shocked amazement as she turned and walked back to her own yard.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Jareth had known well ahead of time what would happen if he was seperated from Sarah. He knew that he needed to be close to his powers, for the sake of his own sanity. The terrible anxiety and discomfort he had felt when she'd been on the other side of town, even, had been more than he ever wanted to experience again.  
  
Even knowing what he did, nothing prepared him for what he felt now.  
  
The sedatives had worn off much too quickly. While he had missed the creeping sense of panic at first, that only meant that it had slammed into him full-force when he became aware of himself again. The horrible gnawing feeling he felt before was forgotten. It was nothing compared to the sheer agony of being so forcefully taken from where his powers resided, and so quickly! Jareth felt ill, felt like his flesh was being pricked by a thousand icy needles, like his feathers were burning and his innards were being twisted and torn into shreds. He was a creature of magic, he needed the magic to survive in this world, just as mortals needed to eat and breathe. His panic skyrocketed, and something inside of him snapped.  
  
He keened in pain and threw himself at the walls of his confinement. The bars rattled loudly in response, and he gnawed on them restlessly. Evidently, wherever he was being taken was a good ways away, because it felt like they had been driving forever. The rational part of his mind reasoned that he probably wouldn't last much longer in this state, and for once, the irrational part was in wholehearted agreement. It was dark in the back of the van, and he was being jostled every time they went over a bump. Not that he wasn't capable of seeing fine, but he could care less about what else was in the cabin with him. All he could think about was Sarah. Sarah, and the hell he was going through.  
  
Another wave of frustration hit him, and he slammed against the inside of the cage angrily. His sensible side was telling him to wait until they went to take him out of the van before he tried to escape. Even with almost-useless wings, he should be able to give them the slip if he tried hard enough. He'd have a much better chance of getting back to Sarah that way. The overwhelming panic was making it difficult to think, however, and in the end, it won out. With a wild cry, he attacked the walls of the cage repeatedly, until one blow struck too hard and he was thrown into welcome oblivion.  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Dr.Trapp looked down at the trembling, listless barn owl on the examination table and shook his head sadly. "There's nothing you can do for it?"  
  
"We've tried everything," Angela sighed. "He's not responding to any of the treatments. I'm not even sure how this happened, he was perfectly fine when we picked him up."  
  
"The trauma of being moved must have gotten to him. He was probably feeling ill when we checked his health, and it was still in the early stages." The doctor poked at the twitching bird gently and frowned at the shallow rise and fall of it's chest. "Very well, then, it looks as though there's nothing we can do for him now. We'll have him put down in the morning."  
  
~*~  
  
-The End  
  
  
  
...Hey, hey, I was kidding! It was a joke! *dodges overripe peaches* Eeek! I'm sorry, I have to leave it off there! And I've run out of prewritten chapters, so you're going to have to wait until I get my inspiration back to write the next chapter. I'll try to hurry, but my schedule's not condusive to quiet writing moments this week or next. I will try my best. 


	20. Wish

My apologies for taking so long to write this chapter. I had so many things keeping me from finding the frame of mind to write that I don't even know where to start in naming them all. Between working as much as possible to have money for my road trip, packing for my road trip and making last- minute arrangements, actually going on my road trip for three weeks, getting back and having every friend on the planet drag me out to do things because they all missed me -so- much, having to look for work -and- pack AGAIN -and- move everything out so that we can renovate my house -and- going in there with a hammer to tear down walls (I stepped on a three-inch nail and had to go to the clinic for a tetanus shot and a Band-Aid.. so much for my dreams of demolishing my house =P) ...Anyway, I'm staying at my sister's during aforementioned renovations, and since there's little here to distract me and I'm forced to stay off of my foot for a few days, I finally get to curl up with my laptop and write! Yay! ...Alright, so that's no excuse. *bows apologetically* I'm sorry, everyone. n.n() Kudos to everyone who nagged me to write *waves at Cormak3032, Anne-Marie and C. Selene Belyea (??) especially*. This is the last chapter, I'm afraid, but don't worry, a good chunk of it is waffy sugarfluff. n.- And hopefully I tie everything up okay (except for parts which I deliberately leave as loose ends, but if I resolved everything, that wouldn't leave as much room for a sequel n.- ). Oh, and since I don't really see it used a lot and many people usually ask me what it means, 'akimbo' just refers to having one's hands on one's hips.  
  
Disc: ....Y'know, if you've gotten this far, you probably realize by now that I don't own any of these characters (with the exception of the extras and Alex, but no one really likes him. I still do, though, but that's because I made him and I understand the poor boy n.- ) Anyway, yeah. o.o On with the story! n.n()  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
No matter how much Sarah had begged and pleaded to be driven to the rehab center, her parents had refused. Eventually, they had sent her to her room and informed her that she wasn't allowed to set foot outside of it until tomorrow. She'd gone willingly enough, and then pulled on a pair of worn running shoes and snuck out through the window around midnight. Technically, it was tomorrow, so she wasn't disobeying them, really. She had climbed down the big tree and headed for the nearest payphone to find the address in the phone book before tearing out the page and heading in the appropriate direction. Which was why she now found herself picking her way along the side of a deserted highway in the dead of night.  
  
She glanced at her watch. 2:57 am. Sarah hugged herself and shivered. She should have grabbed a jacket, but they had all been downstairs in the closet by the door, and since it was too late to go back now, she'd just have to do without and hope that it didn't get too cold. It was nearly summer, but it was still a bit chilly at night. The sky overhead was mostly overcast, and she hoped that the storm clouds were just passing through. At least she'd had a bit of money, so food wouldn't be too much of a problem. She had no idea how far the center was, other than that it was just outside of the next town, but she was guessing that it would take a day to walk there at the very least. She'd counted on being able to hitch a ride, but as luck would have it, the traffic along this road was very low right now, and what few cars did pass by didn't stop. Sarah was well aware of the dangers of hitchhiking, so maybe it was a good thing that no one stopped to pick her up; still, she didn't like the idea of walking for so long and her legs were starting to ache. She sighed and kept walking.  
  
She wasn't quite sure what she planned on doing once she got there, but she'd get Jareth out of there somehow. She owed him that much, at least. God only knew what they'd done to him already. He was probably going to be furious with her when she finally got him out. Sarah shook her head and decided to cross that bridge when she came to it.  
  
At about a quarter after three, it started pouring. Sarah let out a frustrated groan and tried to shield her head with her sleeves, but she soon gave up on that idea when they soaked through and started dripping water on her in big droplets. There wasn't a tree in sight, or anything else that she might be able to take shelter under. Cursing the unusual amount of rain lately, she trudged on along the wet pavement. If she caught her death of pneumonia, it would happen whether she stayed in one place or not.  
  
A familiar car pulled up beside her. Part of her wanted to rebel and keep on walking, but she was cold, and tired, and her feet hurt. Feeling like a failure, she climbed into the front seat to face her father's wrath.  
  
She expected to be yelled at, or given a lecture. Instead, Robert just stared straight ahead. She waited for him to say something as they drove in silence.  
  
"Where's Karen?" She asked, trying to break the tension in the car.  
  
"At home with Toby," her father answered flatly.  
  
"Oh." She didn't know why she'd expected her stepmother to be there. Of course Toby was more important. Maybe it was selfish of her, but she'd thought that Karen would have cared enough to at least help look for her. Sarah watched the rain run down the passenger-side window tiredly. It shouldn't have surprised her one bit.  
  
The motion of the car, the rhythm of the storm, and the lack of conversation were more than enough to lull her to sleep. The sound of her father's car door slamming shut jerked her awake. Rubbing her cheek where it had been pressed against the cold window, she blearily got out of the car and followed him into the house. All she wanted to do was go to bed and sleep forever.  
  
She was denied that privilege once she stepped inside, however. Her stepmother was waiting for her again, and she was beyond furious.  
  
"Sit down, Sarah," Karen ordered, and her tone left no room for objections. Sarah obliged, steeling herself for the lecture she knew was coming. Let her stepmother yell all she wanted. Sarah wouldn't have had to sneak out if they'd just agreed to take her to the center in the first place.  
  
"Well?" Karen demanded, slapping her palms down on the tabletop for emphasis. Sarah jumped. "I want an answer, young lady."  
  
"Huh?" Sarah looked at her blankly. Karen exploded.  
  
"How are we supposed to solve anything when you keep tuning me out!? Honestly, Sarah, I don't think I can handle this attitude of yours any longer! You don't talk to any of us, you break all of our rules, you sneak out in the middle of the night to heaven only knows where, you care more about some... some filthy bird than about your own family," Karen spat the words out, "You fight me at every turn, Sarah, and I don't know what to do to fix it!"  
  
"We're really worried about you, Sarah," Robert added. "You're not acting like yourself lately. I thought that everything was worked out between you and Karen."  
  
"Well, it's not!" Sarah snapped, and pointed an accusing finger at her stepmother. "She doesn't care about what I want! She wants to see me suffer! She didn't care when they came and took Jareth away, she just let them do it!"  
  
"Sarah, I will not break the law to make you happy," Karen answered. "I was very tolerant of that thing when it attacked you and you still wanted to keep it. I could have told you right then to get rid of it, but I let you have your way."  
  
"So? You wouldn't take me to see him when I asked you to earlier. He probably hates it there and someone needs to reassure him that it's alright!" Sarah shot back. God, he was never going to forgive her for letting them take him away like that...  
  
"Sarah, they're professionals, they know what they're doing! Someone needs to curb this... this obsession you've developed over that animal! I think that taking you to see it will only make things worse. It was a mistake to let it stay here in the first place. You're acting like a spoiled brat!"  
  
"Why? Just because I won't abandon someone I care about? How is that acting spoiled!?"  
  
"Sarah, it's only a bird! It's a wild animal! It doesn't belong here, it belongs outside in the woods. That's the way things are supposed to be. I think you're taking this way too far!"  
  
"You wouldn't say that if it was Merlin I was worried about," Sarah muttered bitterly.  
  
"The dog's not illegal, Sarah. You can't have everything you want! I swear, you get so caught up in your fantasy world that you don't have any sense left in that head of yours!"  
  
"Just because your imagination is dead doesn't mean you have to make everyone else suffer..." Sarah grumbled.  
  
"Now Sarah, that's enough," her father intervened. "Your mother and I have discussed it..."  
  
"She's not my mother!"  
  
"...And we think," Robert went on, ignoring the outburst, "that you need to see a therapist about this."  
  
"What?" Sarah gaped.  
  
"We want to help you, Sarah." Karen added. "I know a good doctor... he's very easy to get along with, and I think he can help you work through this problem of yours."  
  
"What problem? I don't have a problem! You two are the ones who can't see what's right in front of you! You wouldn't know magic if it bit you in the ass!"  
  
"Sarah! Don't use that sort of language towards your mother!" Robert scolded.  
  
"I told you, she's not my mother, and she never will be! My mother actually cared about whether I was happy or not!"  
  
"She didn't care enough to stick around, did she?" Karen said icily. Sarah slapped her.  
  
There was a moment of stunned silence. Even Sarah looked surprised that she'd done it.  
  
"Sarah, go to your room," Robert said finally. Sarah went without arguing, glad for the escape. She heard her stepmother say something very unflattering about her as she headed up the stairs. Well, let her insult her all she wanted, Sarah told herself. Karen had no right to say those things about her mother. She'd had it coming. Sarah wiped the tears from her eyes angrily and threw her door shut behind her. It wasn't like she cared what Karen thought of her.  
  
She flung herself onto her bed and stared angrily at the wall. Her wandering gaze fell upon Jareth's wardrobe pen, the door still hanging ajar. He'd been there only hours ago, before they'd come and taken him away. Now it was hauntingly empty, lifeless, and Sarah felt a creeping sense of emptiness along with it. Wherever he was now, he was out of her reach.  
  
God, she'd failed him, she thought miserably as fresh tears pricked at her eyes. How was she supposed to help him now that he was so far away? She hadn't even known what to do for him when he had still been here. Right in her own room. She hadn't felt this helpless since her mother had left and her dad had married Karen. And no one was willing to help her do something about it.  
  
Sarah curled herself into a tight ball and cried herself to sleep, feeling more alone than she had in a long, long time.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"Morning, Aaron," a middle-aged brunette poked her head into the main office of the Raptor Rehab center and smiled a greeting. The man in the office looked up from his coffee and smiled in return.  
  
"Hey Macy, haven't seen you in for a few days. Been away?"  
  
"Travis had the flu, and he's really susceptible at his age," Macy explained. "Hey, is there any more of that coffee?"  
  
"Just brewed a pot," Aaron jerked his head towards the coffee machine. "Help yourself."  
  
"Thanks, don't mind if I do." The brunette reached under the counter for a mug and poured herself some of the steaming beverage. "So what'd I miss? Anything new on the agenda for today?"  
  
"Same as usual. Oh, we picked up a new one last night. Big barn owl. Trapp brought him in." Aaron took a sip of his coffee and added, "Poor thing's past saving, though. Ian wanted him put down first thing this morning. No point in the poor creature suffering." Macy nodded.  
  
"Want me to handle this one? I know how much you hate this sort of thing in the morning." Aaron made a face.  
  
"I hate this sort of thing any time," he clarified, then reached for the phone as it rang. "Go ahead," he told her, handing her a clipboard before turning his attention to the person on the other end of the line. Macy took her cue and left.  
  
She found that, when she got to the appropriate cage, her safety gear wasn't really necessary. The owl inside barely seemed alive as it was. She'd seen some pretty bad shock, but never quite this severe.  
  
"Oh, aren't you a pretty one," she murmured, gathering him up and carrying him over to the examination table. He looked like he had been through a lot, and from the looks of things, he was incapable of flying as well. Macy's heart went out to the poor thing. The injuries were at least a month old, and she wondered how he'd managed to survive this long. She'd have to ask Aaron later. Still, she had to admire the owl for making it this far. It was a shame that he had to be put down, but if Ian Trapp had decided that it was what was best for it, then far be it for her to argue.  
  
It was such a shame, though, she thought as she readied the needle that would end his life.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
"Liar!" Sarah hollered from the living room. A moment later, she came storming into the kitchen, seething.  
  
"I beg your pardon?" Her stepmother looked up from feeding Toby and regarded Sarah impatiently.  
  
"You lied!" Sarah accused. "You told me they'd take care of him! I can't believe you'd do something like this!"  
  
"Sarah, what are you talking about?" Karen demanded. "I told you exactly what Dr. Trapp told me!"  
  
"Well, then he was lying, because I just got off the phone with the center where they took him, and the guy there said that they were putting him down!"  
  
Karen blinked. "Maybe they were talking about a different owl?" Her stepdaughter was shaking her head angrily.  
  
"It -was- him! They said it was the one Dr. Trapp brought in with the injured wings. I made sure I described him on the phone." Sarah's expression was one of angry betrayal as tears rolled down her cheeks. "They had him put down!"  
  
"I'm sorry," Karen offered lamely. She at least had the decency to look like she meant it, but Sarah didn't care. It was a little late to feel bad about it now.  
  
"'Sorry'?" She repeated in disbelief. "'Sorry' won't bring him back, will it!?"  
  
"Now, Sarah, calm down..." Karen touched Sarah's shoulder gently.  
  
"No, I won't!" Sarah shrugged off the hand violently and fixed her stepmother with an enraged glare. "This is your fault! You let them take him! I' m never going to forgive you for this, ever!" She turned away and ran for the stairs, retreating to her room and slamming the door behind her. The loud bang it made wasn't nearly satisfying enough, and she kicked it a few times for good measure before spinning around in frustration. She didn't care if she was throwing a tantrum like a child. How could she possibly take this calmly? It wasn't fair!  
  
Jareth would be so irritated to hear her say that. Sarah sank to her knees with a sob, burying her face in her hands and weeping quietly. The guilt she felt was overwhelming. She had blamed Karen, but it was really her own fault. It was because of her that he'd lost his powers and been trapped in that form. Even if he'd been her enemy, she hadn't wanted any harm to come to him. If only she'd known how to help him, if only she'd gotten the chance to ask. And now it was too late. She'd failed him.  
  
"I just wish that everything was right again..." she whispered miserably.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Something was surrounding him, wrapping him tightly in black, hot, airless fog. It was almost tangible, and he was suffocating slowly, agonizingly slow. He'd been like this for ages, for longer than his dazed mind could remember. Weakly he fought at the blackness, making halfhearted attempts to free himself, knowing it was hopeless but trying nonetheless. Gradually, his struggling slowed and then stopped altogether. What was the use in such a pointless battle?  
  
He lay still, swathed in the strangling darkness. Something was nagging at him, like a dull itch at the back of his skull as he tried to recall what he was holding on for again. Once more the reason escaped him. He closed his eyes and waited for oblivion to swallow him whole.  
  
From somewhere above him he heard an almost-familiar voice, far away and incomprehensible, breaking the deafening silence. Something burst like a floodgate, and the blackness was swallowed up by light and cool fresh air. Joy, life, power, relief, completion suffused him as he fought his way free with renewed strength. The black tethers that held him in place snapped and disintegrated into nothing, no longer able to hold him. He felt like laughing as he broke free.  
  
Smiling, he opened his eyes.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Macy heard a soft sigh behind her. She turned back around and nearly dropped her needle in surprise. After all, a tall, slender, well-built blond man sitting where a barn owl had been seconds earlier was certainly the last thing she had expected to see. Of course, it wouldn't have been nearly as much of a shock, save for the fact that the man in question looked less like someone who belonged at the center and more like the lead singer of a rock band. That, and he was stark naked.  
  
Macy, being the calm professional that she was, shrieked.  
  
The man rubbed his temples and winced. "Must you make such an awful racket?" He sighed. Instantly, he was clothed (and in the most outlandish outfit Macy had ever seen). He stood and strode towards her, and she backed away. There was something almost predatory in the aloof way he held himself. This was not a man to be taken lightly.  
  
The corners of his well-shaped mouth curled up in a smirk as he approached her. "I don't think you will be needing that," he observed, effortlessly prying the syringe from the woman's slackened grip. He gave a little twist of his wrist, and... Macy blinked. Had the needle just vanished before her eyes?  
  
"I-I'm sorry, but this part of the center is not open to the public, and...uh..." she stammered, uncomfortably aware that he was watching her every move. Oh, for crying out loud, she felt like an awkward teenager. She licked her lips and tried again. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to see some authorization, otherwise I'll have to ask you to leave..." she finished weakly.  
  
The man paused and seemed to consider, and Macy noticed a faraway look in his eyes. "Very well," he conceded. And simply vanished.  
  
Macy stood gazing blankly at the table for a moment before shaking her head almost dazedly. What had she come back here to do again? With a shrug, she decided she was in need of stronger coffee and walked back towards the main office to ask Aaron for the day's schedule.  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
The feel of the wind moving his feathers as he soared through the air was the most exhilarating feeling Jareth had ever experienced. He swooped and dove effortlessly, his fully-healed wings holding him aloft with ease. He was back in the Underground, making his way towards his kingdom. Certainly he was anxious to see the state it was in, but he had opted to fly there instead of taking the more direct route. He had missed flying, and he wasn't about to take the ability for granted again.  
  
As much as he'd wanted to, he couldn't stay and play with the woman. His labyrinth had been left for far too long without it's master, and Underground law dictated that he wasn't permitted to show his human guise to those who had not directly summoned him. That had been a mistake; he had been so caught up in the euphoria of regaining control of his power that he'd slipped back into the form of a man without thinking. Thankfully, the woman had been the only one to witness his little slip-up, and it had been easy enough to confuse her and make her tired mind forget what she had seen. By the same token, the brat next door to Sarah would have to go unvisited for the time being. His hands were tied by that blasted Gratitude law, and so any action he wanted to take against the little punk would have to wait until he was summoned again. If he was summoned again.  
  
That gave Jareth pause for thought. Certainly Sarah had been willing to help him get back home in the end, but that didn't necessarily mean that she would welcome his presence again. It could very easily indicate the opposite. And as much as he may want to, he simply wasn't allowed to return unless she willed him to do so. It was very possible that she never wanted to see him again, and if that was the case, then he could never see her again, either. She had all the control. It was a depressing scenario, and Jareth pushed it firmly from his mind. Now was not the time to dwell on such things, not when he was still reveling in this latest victory.  
  
He could see his kingdom clearly now, and he was pleasantly surprised to find that it was still in one piece, if not a bit worse for wear. What damage there was wouldn't be too terribly difficult to fix, to his considerable relief. Sarah must have held onto her belief after all. He admitted that he had had his doubts (alright, so he'd let himself believe the worst), but she had proven his fears to be ill-founded. He felt more light-hearted than he had in months as he swooped in through the window to land in his throne room, transforming as he did so.  
  
His smile quickly turned into a frown as soon as he got a good look around.  
  
It looked to all appearances like a giant ogre had picked up the room, given it a good hard shake and flipped it over a few times before setting it down and going on his way. Calling it a mess would be a gross understatement. And 'gross' was certainly the right word for it. The first thing to hit Jareth was the awful reek that permeated the stone chamber, and it was nearly enough to send him reeling. The floor was covered in all sorts of foul substances (no doubt the cause of the terrible odor), some of them unidentifiable and others simply unmentionable. Jareth noted with unhindered disgust that it was on the walls and ceiling as well, and he immediately decided that he didn't even want to know how it had gotten there. Someone had apparently decided to throw an impromptu party in the king' absence, as evidenced by the empty barrels of wine from his private reserves which now lay scattered around the room, while their contents formed puddles in the general mess or filled the bellies of the goblins snoring on the floor. His throne was propped upside-down against the far wall, forming a makeshift cage around a young pair of goblins, one of which was whining and hiccuping unhappily while the other snored loudly beside the first, oblivious. A few black chickens completed the scene, pecking at what little floor space there was (and there really wasn't much at all; it was a minor miracle that Jareth had found enough room to stand).  
  
With an irritated sigh, he nudged the nearest goblin with the toe of his boot. It snorted and awoke with a blink, and Jareth picked it up by the scruff of it's swamp-green neck to give it a shake.  
  
"Wake up," he ordered. The goblin went wide-eyed and let out an alarmed squeak, now fully awake. Jareth tossed it to one side where it landed with a thud, completely unharmed, if a bit startled. The Goblin King turned to address the room at large, his voice rising. "All of you, get up," he snapped authoritatively, standing akimbo, his displeasure coloring his tone. "Go on, move it! Stop lazing around and clean up this mess, or it's the Bog of Stench for every single one of you!"  
  
As overused as the familiar threat was, it got results. Most of the goblins had roused at the sound of their king's angry voice, and they were now scrambling to obey, lest he make good on the age-old threat. No goblin in his or her right mind wanted the king's wrath on their head, even without the Bog of Eternal Stench.  
  
Jareth could feel a migraine coming on as he watched his subjects rush around aimlessly to follow his orders. He already knew that they would no doubt find the most unorganized and inefficient method possible, and that the task would take at least four times longer than necessary. Leaving the goblins unsupervised always proved to be a mistake, however unavoidable it had been. It was bad enough when he was around to keep them at least marginally in check. He shuddered to think of what the rest of the castle looked like.  
  
A goblin with a bucket of water collided with a goblin with a broom, sending the contents all over the floor and adding to the general chaos as several others slipped in the soapy water. Jareth closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with a heartfelt sigh. Some things never changed.  
  
And then without any warning, he started to laugh.  
  
The goblins stopped dead in their tracks and turned to look at their king, wondering if he had finally gone off the deep end. At first he was only shaking with silent mirth, and then chuckling, and then he was laughing so hard that he had to lean against the wall to keep his balance. Several goblins started backing away unconsciously. Their bewildered faces only made him laugh harder.  
  
He finally regained enough composure to fix them all with a stern look. "Back to work!" He barked. And then laughed again as they all fell over themselves in their scramble to obey. It felt good to be home.  
  
  
  
  
  
~*~*~*~*~*~*~  
  
  
  
Sarah sat by her window, gazing tiredly at the night sky. She'd had an exhausting day, and all she really wanted to do was curl up and sleep. And yet, she felt too restless for sleep to come.  
  
Her stepmother had taken her in for a psychiatric evaluation earlier that afternoon. That had actually gone a lot better than expected. When asked about her insistence that a wild animal was some fairy-tale figure, Sarah had quietly told the pudgy little psychiatrist that she had just wanted attention and had made the whole thing up. After all, what did it matter now? The doctor had accepted that explanation without question and, after a brief talk with Karen and her father, had sent them on their way.  
  
She couldn't shake the horrible sense of loss that she'd felt since that morning a few days ago. It was almost like a part of her had died.  
  
Who knew that she could possibly miss him this much? He'd been her enemy, but... how could she hate him now? He'd been at her mercy for so long now that she couldn't be afraid of him now. She felt responsible for his safety, and now that he was gone...  
  
She pushed away the fresh tears angrily. It frustrated her to no end that she couldn't do anything for him in the end, couldn't even be with him when he.... "Died." She whispered. "Say it, Sarah. When he died." She hugged her arms, shivering despite the room being comfortably warm. It hurt to admit it out loud. She wasn't willing to accept it. But he couldn't possibly have escaped...could he have?  
  
She thought back to that morning, going over every detail in her mind. She had realized what she had muttered at some point during the next few days, realized the significance it held. But she didn't think it would have worked it he was already gone, and wouldn't she have gotten some sort of sign if he had made it? Anything at all? Did he hold that little regard for her? Or had he just not survived? Either idea hurt, although the thought that he might still be alive was a comfort.  
  
"I need you," she whimpered at the mirror, unconsciously reaching for the old familiar comfort. She knew it wouldn't work; she'd lost contact with her friends a long time ago, and with Jareth gone, there was absolutely no reason for it to work now.  
  
To her surprise, she looked up to see Hoggle staring back at her.  
  
"Sarah!" He cried, partially out of surprise at hearing from her after so long, and partially out of concern for his friend, who had fallen right out of her chair.  
  
"Hoggle!" She picked herself up and let her mouth hang open. What was he doing here? Why did it work now, when it hadn't before?  
  
Fear clenched at her gut and she fell into her seat, feeling sick to her stomach. Of course... the obvious conclusion was that Jareth had been keeping them from contacting her somehow, and if they were able to get through now...  
  
"He must really be dead, then..." she whispered, her voice shaking as the tears threatened to fall once again. This time, she made no attempt to stop them. Her hands went to her eyes and her head fell forward, causing her hair to form a dark curtain around her face.  
  
Hoggle looked confused, to say the least. "Who's dead, Sarah?" The girl shook her head, unwilling to say his name aloud. Hoggle's expression became one of sympathy. "D'you want someone there with ya? Everyone here misses ya, we'd all be happy to try an' cheer ya up some... y'know, if you want..." He looked away shyly.  
  
Sarah looked up and managed a weak smile. "Yeah... I think I'd like that..." She dried her eyes on the hem of her sleeve. "I need all of you," she announced with feeling.  
  
"Glad to hear ya still feel that way," Hoggle sounded relieved beside her as she turned to look at everyone present. Everyone -had- come, Hoggle and Didymus and Ludo, some goblins and the Fireys and...  
  
Her eyes froze on the tall figure standing among them, and all she could do was sit there, gawking stupidly. Oh my god, her mind repeated. Oh my god, oh my god oh my god...  
  
Jareth's tentative smile dropped from his face at Sarah's shocked expression. Her statement of needing 'all of you' was open to interpretation, and he'd chosen to believe that she wanted to see him as well. It had really gotten under his skin that he hadn't been welcome at the last little gathering she had had, and he'd wanted to be included this time. He fought the urge to fidget uncomfortably. He'd been wrong, she didn't want him here. It was best if he left now, lest his presence mar the occasion.  
  
Before he could make a move to leave, Sarah shook herself out of her trance. With a glad cry, she closed the distance between them, and Jareth's face lit up in a genuine smile as she reached him and flung her arms around his neck. Somewhat hesitantly, he brought his arms up to hug her back. A warm feeling crept over him. She -did- want to see him.  
  
He was acutely aware of having an audience. Most of Sarah's guests had opted to throw another party (not surprising), but her four travelling companions were watching them with varying emotions. Ludo had his shaggy dog ears perked up slightly in a show of curiosity, Didymus' jaw was hanging open while Ambrosius looked unconcerned, and Hoggle was looking away, a blush coloring his face. Jareth felt his own cheeks start to burn, and he could practically hear their thoughts regarding his uncharacteristic display of affection towards the girl who had defeated him, of all people. Sarah looked up in time to notice his discomfort, and she pulled her arms behind her back, thinking that her attention was unwanted.  
  
"I'm sorry," she told him, them smiled when he didn't seem annoyed by her. She could feel the stinging at the back of her eyes that meant tears were building up, and she forced them back so that she wouldn't embarrass him further. He was here, he was actually here, real and warm and alive. Not dead, like she'd thought. And he didn't seem to be mad at her for not saving him from the rehabbers. "You came," was all she could think of to say. It seemed so inadequate.  
  
He gave her a little half-smile. "I wasn't sure whether or not I was welcome among your friends." He seemed so uncertain, such a glaring contrast to the haughty enemy Sarah had faced in the Labyrinth. If she hadn't become accustomed to his warmer side when she had been taking care of him, it would have shocked her into silence, but as it was, she just smiled at him reassuringly.  
  
"Of course you are, Jare," she told him, using the nickname she had given him as an owl. She felt giddy with relief, and it must have showed. Jareth raised an eyebrow and gave the other occupants of the room a cursory glance to see if anyone had overheard, but no one was listening. Sarah's companions had stopped watching and were mingling with the crowd. Sarah tapped him on the nose playfully to get his attention back, another gesture she had picked up while he had been in his other form. "I do consider you a friend now, y'know."  
  
Jareth frowned. "Why do I get the feeling that you're never going to take me seriously again?" He lamented, but there was a playful note to his voice and Sarah giggled.  
  
Something fell to the floor and smashed, and Sarah glanced over to see that a goblin had knocked a glass off of the nightstand. "Karen's going to have a fit," she observed, glad that it wasn't one of her treasured possessions.  
  
Jareth raised an eyebrow. "I'd be happy to fix it if it will prevent trouble with your stepmother," he murmured in a low voice, not wanting anyone to overhear.  
  
Sarah looked surprised by his offer, then her mouth curled into a smirk. "Nah, leave it," she grinned, eyes twinkling mischievously. "Let her freak out over some broken glass."  
  
"Sarah, what's going on in there? What's all that noise?" As if on cue, Karen' voice came drifting through the door, accompanied by loud knocking. Sarah and Jareth looked up as Karen opened the door and poked her head in. Her jaw dropped at the cacophony she was greeted with. "Sarah, what in God's name... OH!" She let out a shriek as a fiery popped up in front of her.  
  
"Hey, lady!" The Firey shouted, grinning impishly. "Want to play a game of heads?" It pulled off it's cranium and started bouncing it on one knee like a soccer ball.  
  
Karen fainted dead away.  
  
Jareth materialized a crystal on his fingertips and casually tossed it at the unconscious woman, where it sucked her inside and disappeared into the hall. "Back to her bed," he explained when Sarah gave him a questioning look. "She'll think that it was a dream in the morning."  
  
Sarah relaxed visibly and smiled. For just a second, she'd been worried that Jareth was going to extract some sort of revenge on Karen. Not that she would have blamed him. Karen certainly deserved it, in her opinion. But part of her didn't want to think about what Jareth's sort of revenge might involve. Who knew what he would deem a suitable punishment for all of the woman's meddling.  
  
Thinking about how Karen had almost ruined things reminded Sarah of how close she had come to losing Jareth when she'd only just realized his value as a friend, and she hugged him again to reassure herself that -she- wasn't dreaming. Part of her still couldn't believe he was alright. She stopped herself just before she started scratching his neck, reminding herself that he was -not- an owl at the moment and probably wouldn't appreciate it.  
  
Jareth hadn't really been expecting another display of affection, but he couldn't really say that he minded, and after another self-conscious look around to make sure no one was watching, he hugged her back. Something occurred to him as he held her, the memory of her tear-stained cheeks and red eyes when he had first appeared in her room. He pulled back and looked down at her. "Sarah, why were you crying?"  
  
Sarah blushed and ducked her head. "I thought you were dead," she admitted.  
  
Jareth didn't know what to say. She had been crying for him? "Why?"  
  
Sarah shrugged. "You never told me you were alright," she explained, misunderstanding the question. "I was worried about you."  
  
But Jareth had heard what he needed to hear. "Worried about me?"  
  
"Yeah," she rubbed the back of her neck and shrugged again. "I'd worry about any of my friends if I thought they were in danger. I mean, I've said before that I need them all every once in a while, and I guess I finally realized that, even before I found you in that cooler, on some level... I needed you, too." There, she'd said it. She looked away, embarrassed. Would he understand what she meant? He'd been an important part of her childhood, and he held a special place in her heart, even as the villain. Even more so now that he was her friend instead of her enemy.  
  
Jareth gazed at her as her words sunk in. And then he smiled, not one of his cocky smirks, but a real, warm, genuine smile. He wanted to laugh, to hug her tightly and spin her around until they were both breathless. She needed him. She didn't return his love now, she was too young for that yet, but it was a start. He was content to be her friend for now, safe in the knowledge that she needed him, just like he needed her.  
  
And maybe that was all the revenge he really wanted.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Well? What did you think? Love it? Hate it? A lot of you are going to think that I ran out of ideas near the end, and I admit that that's what it looks like. Sure, all it is is a revision of the movie ending. But the truth is that when I originally started on this idea, this was the first scene I came up with. At first I was only going to write it as a one-shot alt-ending to the movie, but then it occurred to me that there are a million and one of those out there already, and I wanted to do something more original. I didn't want to write it without more substance to it, some sort of back story so that it made sense and Jareth and Sarah were actually in-character. It couldn't have happened with the way the movie ended, because neither of them were at the point where they would have done anything remotely like this. So I guess you might say that I wrote 'Bound' for the ending. n.- I'm sure I'm not the only one who wished that Jareth had been at that party in Sarah's room at the end. 


End file.
